#they’re on good terms again your honour

[jamie-is-out-of-ideas]

I’m going fucking crazy

[ghcstao3]

Please give me more from Sope obviously about everything that is happening around him and ghost who all this time thought it was just friendly.

I need the dinner and how they realise that they are the best thing in the world for each other.

it is my honour to expand on soap being oblivious

-

“…I mean, I’m not gay, but—I can appreciate when a man looks good, y’ken?”

Ghost pauses. Really pauses. As in, his forkful of food is held midair just out of reach of his next bite just so he can look at Soap. Really look.

Because he must’ve hit his head at some point to have thought to say something so… strange. Wrong, Ghost wants to think.

Now, Ghost realizes there isn’t a lot about life that he can be completely sure about. But when Soap had approached him—after months of back-and-forth flirting just teetering over the edge of something friendly, after growing and festering feelings developing between them—and asked Ghost if he wanted to go for dinner some time, just the two of them, Ghost had been certain it was a date.

And now Soap is here, sitting across from Ghost with his own fancy dinner, saying this. Unbelievable.

With a deep breath and one last incredulous look, Ghost sets down his fork. Folds his hands over the table, leans back in a chair that has no right to creak beneath his weight with the price they’re paying to be here.

“Say that again,” Ghost demands.

Soap stops mid-sentence, drawing his eyebrows together. A frown—pout—graces his lips, and maybe a minute prior to the present Ghost would be overcoming to urge to kiss it from Soap’s face.

“…I’m not gay?”

Ghost blinks. Levels Soap his most unimpressed stare in the hopes the cogs would start turning without further prompting. But Ghost isn’t so lucky, clearly.

“Why are we here?” Ghost tries instead.

“To eat dinner?” Soap winces like he knows the answer is wrong, but not like he knows why.

“At a nice restaurant,” Ghost says. “Just the two of us.”

Silence falls over them, nothing to break the sudden tension beyond the muted chatter and clinking of cutlery from other patrons.

“Can two friends not have dinner together?” Soap asks meekly. He’s finally begun to sound unsure of his words, shrinking in on himself under Ghost’s questioning gaze.

Ghost sighs. Softly, he urges, “Why did you invite me here, Johnny?”

Soap’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he works through this new problem like it’s an equation to solve, a mission to execute. He sits back, face contorting in deep thought before it eventually goes slack, wide-eyed and naive realization appearing as Soap finally looks back up at Ghost.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Soap drags his hands over his face, cheeks blooming a deep red as he groans into his palms. Ghost can’t help but watch on with a deep but fond exasperation.

“I just—I—this whole time—“

“Don’t need to explain yourself,” Ghost hums. He takes the opportunity to finally shove his forgotten forkful into his mouth. “Glad we could establish this is a date.”

Soap peeks out between his fingers. “You’re tellin’ me you… you agreed to this, thinking it was a date, while I—God, Simon,” he huffs. “You have awful taste in men.”

“At least I know when to come to terms with it.”

Soap scoffs and kicks Ghost’s shin under the table. “Haud yer wheesht.”

Ghost snickers. He jabs his now-empty fork in the direction of Soap’s plate. “Eat your food. Want to make this a real date later on.”

Soap’s face somehow turns an even brighter shade of red.

But he obliges.

And Ghost is very glad to know that he could, in fact, be certain about this one thing.

[veritas-scribblings]

fair - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 669

[partly inspired by @deathnguts’s post]

Evan arrives early and finds them an empty carriage. This is always a strategic decision: partly because his father is a drunken, abusive arsehole and Evan takes himself to Kings Cross as early as feasibly possible; partly because Evan is intimidating and has the ability to scare anyone away with a directed glare, so he claims the territory in honour of them all.

Barty throws the carriage door open with a huff and shoves his trunk under the seat. And then, with another huff, he all but crawls into Evan’s arms and stays there quietly, twitching and shuddering every once in a while as the tension and desperate loneliness starts to loosen.

Evan says what he always says at the start of a school year: ‘Two years.’ Two years and counting down. Two years and then they’ll bust the fuck out of their prisons and run away. Two years and then they’ll be free.

‘Regulus’s first,’ Barty murmurs against Evan’s chest as he always does. ‘Then yours. Then mine.’

Regulus’s first because if Orion and Walburga suspect something is up, they’ll tighten their grip and never let go. Barty has every intention of pissing on their graves. Evan’s second, because Barty relishes the idea of feeding Rosier Senior his own cock. Barty’s last, because his father will always underestimate him and that will be the old man’s undoing.

Evan nods and hums in agreement. His arms are loose around Barty, not really holding him but more just letting himself be held. Evan’s never quite known what to do with physical intimacy. Really, that’s okay by Barty.

Regulus enters the carriage less dramatically than Barty did. Barty shuffles away from Evan a little, because he knows what Regulus will do. It’s what Regulus always does. Without so much as a word, Regulus tucks his trunk under the seat and climbs directly into Barty’s lap to wrap himself around him. 

He doesn’t acknowledge Evan. He never does at the start of a school year, because he never needs to. And Barty will never not be jealous that Evan and Regulus get each other over the summer holidays while Barty is left all alone, a prisoner in his own house. 

The Rosier and Black families are on good terms, what with being part of the pureblood aristocracy. The exclusive social class. So Evan and Regulus have each other. They see each other frequently. They’re not all alone over the holidays, not the way Barty is. And Barty loves that for them. He’s glad they have each other. And he hates them for it all at the same time.

Barty holds Regulus to his chest, burying his face in Regulus’s hair. He breathes in deeply the scent of Regulus: the lemongrass and coconut of his shampoo. The hint of a scent underneath it all that is sweet and musky and familiar and all Regulus. 

Regulus is tense the way he always is after the holidays, clinging to Barty like he’s been terrified that what he had feared, that he would never see Barty again, would come true. Like the start of the term had been so, so far away.

Or perhaps that was Barty’s fear. 

Barty presses a kiss into Regulus’s hair and then tilts Regulus’s head so he can press a kiss against his lips. ‘Reg,’ he murmurs. ‘Love you. Two years.’

Sighing, Regulus wraps his arms around Barty and buries his face in Barty’s neck. Two years is a comfort to Barty. Barty can handle two years; it’s two years that Barty can plot and scheme and prepare to make sure everything is carried out smoothly, without a hitch. 

Two years, however, is not a comfort to Regulus. Two years for Regulus is an eternity. It’s two eternities.

Running his hand up and down Regulus’s back, Barty inhales deeply to sync their breathing. He nuzzles into Regulus’s hair and glances sidelong at Evan. Evan will keep watch for them and chase away any intruders.

And Barty and Regulus will stay like this for a while. Maybe forever.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 10

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The events of last night, endlessly complicated in the candlelit privacy of Laurent’s bedchamber, had resolved into a single, blissful fact this morning. Laurent missed him.

<3

He felt a flutter of illicit joy when he thought of it. He remembered Laurent gazing up at him. You keep overturning all my plans. Laurent was going to be furious when he arrived at the morning meeting.

he’s going to be in such a bad mood <3 i love their love

‘You’re in a good mood,’ Nikandros said, as he came into the hall. Damen clapped him on the shoulder, and took up his place at the long table. ‘We’re going to take Karthas,’ said Damen.

“also my divorce husband likes me again”

Straton arrived with Philoctus, arranging their skirts as they sat. Makedon was already present, along with Enguerran. Vannes arrived and took her seat, arranging her skirts similarly

i like how skirts are contextualized as authoritative here, and the female character who you’d expect based on traditional stereotypes to be the only one in the skirt, and whose dress skirt is nothing like the akielon battle skirts, is still seamlessly grouped in with the men

Laurent entered, an edge to his grace, like a leopard with a headache, around whom one must tread very, very carefully. ‘Good morning,’ said Damen. ‘Good morning,’ said Laurent. This was said after an infinitesimal pause, as if maybe for once in his life the leopard wasn’t quite certain what to do. Laurent sat on the throne-like seat of oak beside Damen, and kept his eyes carefully on the space in front of him.

screaming they’re so ridiculous. laurent is so out of his element with no idea what happened

‘Laurent!’ said Makedon, greeting Laurent warmly. ‘I am glad to take up your invitation to hunt with you in Acquitart when this campaign is over.’ He clapped Laurent on the shoulder. Laurent said, ‘My invitation.’ Damen wondered whether he had ever been clapped on the shoulder in his life.

laurent let his self-sim go on full autonomy for a night and is discovering that he’s now best friends with makedon

This provoked a wave of soldierly camaraderie. Laurent did not typically engage in soldierly camaraderie, and did not know what to do.

fucking nerd

‘You’ve sent riders to announce your plans?’ said Laurent. ‘This is the Akielon way,’ said Makedon, as he might to a favoured nephew a bit slow at learning. ‘An honourable victory will impress the kyroi and gain the favour that we need at the Kingsmeet.’ ‘I see, thank you,’ said Laurent.

laurent thinks war is brutal and fucked up and doesn’t approve of the “decency” of akielon customs. also he’s a passive aggressive bitch

Makedon was explaining the virtues of iron tea to Laurent, and when Laurent massaged his own temple with finely bred fingers, Makedon remarked, rising, ‘You should have your slave fetch you some.’ ‘Fetch me some,’ Laurent said. Damen rose. And stopped. Laurent had gone very still. Damen stood there, awkwardly. He could think of no other reason why he had stood up.

GUYS.

He looked up and his eyes met those of Nikandros, who was staring at him. Nikandros was with a small group to one side of the table, the last of the men in the hall. He was the only one to have seen and heard. Damen just stood there.

this would be an hr complaint if anyone else noticed, but only nik saw so private twitter vent #12 it is

The acidulous blue of Laurent’s gaze on him had nothing to do with the meeting. ‘Nothing happened,’ said Damen. ‘Something happened,’ said Laurent.

honestly i think part of laurent would have preferred if they fucked to just being vulnerable and affectionate and damen being decent

‘You were drunk,’ said Damen. ‘I took you back to your rooms. You asked me to attend you.’ ‘What else?’ said Laurent. ‘I did attend you,’ said Damen. ‘What else?’ said Laurent. He had thought having the upper hand over a hungover Laurent would be a rather enjoyable experience, except that Laurent was beginning to look like he was going to vomit. And not from the hangover. ‘Oh, stand down. You were too drunk to know your own name, let alone who you were with or what you were doing. Do you really think I’d take advantage of you in that condition?’ Laurent was staring at him. ‘No,’ he said awkwardly, as if, only now giving the question his full attention, he was coming to realise the answer. ‘I don’t think you would.’ His face was still white, his body in tension. Damen waited.

<3 i don’t have too much heavy analysis because this is so much payoff to previous analysis. laurent trauma intimacy issues, damen’s never-ending decency that laurent does not expect, damen being delighted/amused by laurent allowing himself to be vulnerable but also sensitive to the discomfort of that vulnerability

‘Did I,’ Laurent said. It took him a long time to push the words out. ‘Say anything.’ Laurent held himself taut, as if for flight. He lifted his eyes to meet Damen’s. ‘You said you missed me,’ said Damen. Laurent flushed, hard, the change in colour startling. ‘I see. Thank you for—’ He could see Laurent taste the edges of the statement. ‘—resisting my advances.’ In the silence, he could hear voices beyond the door that had nothing to do with the two of them, or the honesty of the moment that almost hurt, as if they stood again in Laurent’s chambers by the bed. ‘I miss you too,’ he said. ‘I’m jealous of Isander.’ ‘Isander’s a slave.’ ‘I was a slave.’ The moment ached. Laurent met his gaze, his eyes too clear. ‘You were never a slave, Damianos. You were born to rule, as I was.’

we are so fucking back. sooo bittersweet, with this little shutdown of “we can’t have each other and we never really could have” a kingdom or this etc, they’ll figure it out soon we are in the home stretch

It was a beautiful fort. He saw that, the ghost of its Veretian grace; of what it had been; of what it could be again, perhaps. For his part, this was farewell. He wouldn’t return here, or if he did, as a visiting King, it would be different, restored as it should be to Veretian hands. Marlas, so hard-won, he would simply give back.

or you could both be kings together. just a suggestion.

That was strange to think. Once a symbol of Akielon victory, it seemed now a symbol of all that had changed in him, the way that when he looked now, he saw with new eyes.

:)

Damen looked back at Genevot. Genevot was trembling. She wasn’t scared. She was furious. She was furious at him, at his presence here. ‘It wasn’t fair what happened to your village,’ Damen said to her. ‘No fight is fair. Someone’s always stronger. But I’ll give you justice. That I swear.’ ‘I wish Akielons had never come to Delfeur,’ said the girl. ‘I wish someone had been stronger than you.’ She turned her back on him after she said it. It was an act of bravery, a girl in front of a king. Then she went and picked up a coin from the floor. ‘It’s all right, Genevot,’ said the girl. ‘Look, I’ll teach you a trick. Watch my hand.’

she is/was laurent. laurent is/was her. so many poignant references to damen and laurent's "discussion" during the marlas rematch. this is a perfect moment, and the coin trick recognition is just the cherry on top

Damen’s skin prickled as he recognised it, the echo of another presence, the achingly familiar self-possession that the girl mimicked as she closed her hand over the coin, holding her fist out in front of her. He knew who had been here before him, who had sat with her, taught her. He had seen this trick before. And though her eight-year-old sleight of hand was a little clumsy, she managed to push the coin into her sleeve, so that when she opened her hand again, it was empty.

laurent’s resilience becomes vere’s resilience becomes becomes damen’s resilience. and damen had a large part in creating the circumstances that required laurent to become so resilient, which is a fascinating cycle. i don’t know if damen regrets what happened with auguste yet on a purely idealistic level (as opposed to feeling bad for laurent), or if he ever fully will, because his perception of akielon “decency” in war is still slowly evolving.

i’m guessing that the final straws for damen will be the realizations about the regent and kastor, and only then will he fully Get that it is all fucked, war can't be civil, and there could have been peace instead this entire time. there is no divine right of the “strongest” people simply deserving dominion over others, and the best way one can use authority is to show compassion to enemies and allies alike. it’s not just that the strong shouldn’t hurt the weak—they shouldn’t hurt the strong either, ideally. and while that can sometimes be unavoidable, it’s important to build a world where peace is the goal. which he can laurent can both do, together :)

He saw Laurent, also mounted, a frowning spicule with blond hair. Rigidly upright in the saddle, his polished armour gleamed, his eyes impersonal with command. With the head that Laurent had from griva, it was probably a good thing that he would soon be killing people.

‘You’ve been listening to slave gossip.’ ‘You spent the night in the Prince of Vere’s rooms.’ ‘I spent ten minutes in his rooms. If you think I fucked him in that time you underrate me.’

nik please we are at war

‘I see. You’re warning me again not to bed him?’ ‘No,’ said Nikandros. ‘I know you’re going to bed him. I’m saying that when he lets you, think about what he wants.’

nikandros you have no idea what the fuck is going on between those two, mind your business

She was beautiful. As ever with her, it was something you noticed initially and then forcefully discarded because it was the least dangerous aspect of her. It was her mind, deliberate, calculating, that was the threat, regarding him from behind a pair of cool blue eyes.

mhm yeah that sounds familiar

He made himself look at her. He made himself remember every part of her, the way she had smiled, the slow approach of her sandalled feet as he had hung in chains, the touch of her elegant fingers against his bruised face. Then he turned to the low-level foot soldier to his right, delegating a trivial task that was beneath him, and now meant nothing. ‘Take her away,’ he said. ‘We have the fort.’

okay very specific here but you know how in like 2000s and 2010s reality tv, finalists in competitions would have like "family/home visits" towards the end of the season, and you always got a ton of implied context about how they've become who they are on the show? the middle of king's rising kind of feels like that. like we met damen's bestie, and now we're meeting his ex. we get to basically see his hometown. i won't say the slight tone shift is bad, and there are definitely still intense moments (especially what we're building up to), but it's still just a... slightly odd feeling. does anyone else feel that way?

[blossoms-phan]

what’s your favorite dan and phil games video? any particular reason?

ahh this is such a hard question 😭 the gaming channel is my ultimate comfort content I have a legitimate problem where I don’t watch any of the tv shows or movies I want to watch I just rewatch dnpgames videos I’ve already seen 20 times and I could list like 50 different videos all with their own reasons BUT I will force myself to choose for the question (I’m going to do one from pre hiatus content though and one from after bc those are two entirely different eras/lifetimes to me I think it’s only fair)

-dan lost his voice so we’re playing charades: just an s tier video if we’re being fr, first of all dan losing his voice is just what makes this video bc it adds an element that’s not in other gaming videos, the silliness of it all 🙌 dan continuing to yell at phil with his voice half gone, phil being king of comedy once again with his guesses (boob king)

-also the first fnaf video will forever be a favourite, I started watching them earlier that year bc of a friend that showed them to be and was obsessed with fnaf and the sound that the coffee mug made when it spilled is just one of those dnp things I can hear in my head it’s all very nostalgic

-post hiatus: not gonna choose a baking or reacting to pinof or fashion or twitter video bc we’re loose with the term gaming now but in this context it feels unfair so I’m going to say trunk dexting purely for the fun or it takes two- I think it’s such a good example of them doing actual gaming (no offense lmao) and I like that they’re both playing the game, problem solving, teamwork, and all the bants are we ever going to get part 2 who knows

-honourable mention: the golf with friends video I made a whole post about just the most chill fun banty vibe

i’m going to stop bc I’m just yapping at this point I could keep going but perhaps I’ll start a little series of posts on here for my rewatches

[changingplumbob]

Romero Household: Chapter 1, Part 4

Dia de los Muertos wraps up and we visit our friendly neighbourhood infants!

CW: Discussions of death

Marta’s first language is Spanish so she is teaching Keira (and me) some common Spanish phrases/words Abuelo/Abuela: Grandfather/Grandmother Ay dios mio: omg equivalent Buenas noches: Good evening / Good night Carino: Term of endearment for a loved one Cuídate!: Take care De nada!: You’re welcome/no problem Lo siento: Sorry Padre: Father Por favor: Please Si: Yes Te amo: I love you

With the departure of the Fosters leaving the couple alone, Marta has broken out the face paint to adorn her and Keira. It’s another way of honouring their ancestors.

Marta: Hold still por favor

Keira: I am holding still

Marta: Shhhh, moving your lips counts

Keira: Why didn't we do this before dinner

Marta: I haven't done it for ages so I'm not sure I'm good anymore. I didn't want the dinner thrown apart by focus on my lack of painting skill. Just one more line… there! All done, I’ll take a picture to show you

Keira: Wow this looks great! You’re really going all out this year

Marta: *sighs* I felt bad for all those years Liam didn’t let me make one

Keira: I should have done more than kick his ass

Marta: Carino violence solves nothing. He's in prison for now, let's not think of him

Keira: I’m sorry we didn’t make one at Alexander’s house, I didn’t realise what it meant

Marta: De nada. I didn’t say to you, how could you know

Keira: I suppose. But don’t let us miss it again

Marta: Si. I promise

Keira: Do you… do you think they would have liked me

Marta: I know they’re happy I’m happy but si. Padre would be happy you're active, he was to. And mama would love to talk to you about the ocean life

Keira: You think

Marta: Si. Being so close to the ocean was what she loved about Cuba. She missed it when we moved to Texas

Keira: Well I’m glad you left for Windenburg. Even though it was because…

Marta: Everyone was gone? I didn’t have to leave after padre and mama died. I had the community still but I felt alone. I don’t feel alone anymore

Keira: I’m so glad I worked up the nerve to propose

Marta: *giggles* It’s good you did or I would have had to do something extremely romantic

Keira: I mean… you could still do something extremely romantic if you wanted?

Marta: Maybe I’m saving it for the honeymoon

Keira: Can I get a preview

The two embrace on the sofa, feeling warm and fulfilled.

Abuelo Manuel: Did you see Rafael? She cooked the chimi to perfection. Remembered what we taught her

Padre Rafael: Si padre, she did a good job

Abuela Maria: Will you two shush, I’m trying to listen

Manuel: Corazon I think their conversation is finished

Mama Aymee: *sniffles* She looks so happy and grown up

Rafael: Ay dios mio, you’ll make me cry mi vida

Aymee: Lo siento. I just… we didn’t see our daughter for so long

Maria: You heard what that fiancé said, she’ll make sure Marta does the ofrenda now. She’s a keeper

Manuel: Do you think there will be a new generation next time we visit

Aymee: That would be nice *sniffles* even if would make me cry

Keira: The place definitely feels full when everyone is here, I thought we got a big unit

Marta: We did, people just fill it well

Keira: Am I meant to feel like I’m being watched

Marta: You’re meant to feel loved. I always want you to feel loved

Keira: I feel loved whenever I look in your eyes. Shall we go to bed

Marta: Si, I’ll just say buenas noches to everyone

Keira: We can leave the ofrenda up longer than tomorrow morning if you like

Marta: No. They’ll all be back in the forever save by then

Maria: Are you snooping

Manuel: No! I can’t snoop on what is out in the open, can I?

Rafael: I’m happy she’s still got these photos

Aymee: Liam didn’t take everything from her

Rafael: If I was still alive-

Manuel: There’s no point thinking about what we can’t do

Maria: She’ll be bueno

Rafael: Mi vida, it’s time to go

Aymee: Can’t I just watch her for another five minutes

Manuel: Dawn is coming, we must get back

Aymee: Buenas noches Marta, I leave all my love with you, te amo

In the morning Marta returns the living/dining room to its normal layout while Keira is on laundry duty. Taking their clothes to the shared laundry she wonders why so many people have left their washing in the machines. Being a helpful sim, she moves stuff to the dryers. Fingers crossed none of the clothes shrink!

Marta has harvested what she can from the garden and is singing to herself when Keira walks past in her work clothes.

Marta: Ay dios mio, is it 8am already?

Keira: Si. Te amo sweetheart

Marta: Te amo! Cuídate! Where did I leave my work gear?

Luckily she’s only a few minutes late to the local coffee shop, the perks of a quick commute. After an uneventful shift, where she mostly daydreamed about the upcoming wedding, she gets back home and hangs the washed clothes on the line. When Keira arrives back they go see the Staples.

Here Oli and Vernon are on the move! Marta scoops up Oli while Keira chats.

Marta: Do you want to hold him carino

Keira: Uhh, what if I break him

Margarita: You won’t, he’s sturdy

Marta passes over Oli, giving his tummy a cheerful tickle on the way.

Marta: You hold him for a bit, I’m going to play with Vernon

Keira: Okay but-

Marta: Who’s adorable Vernon? Is it you?

Keira: Sorry if we’re pushing in

Stefan: Don’t be silly. With two infants any helping hands are good

Keira: I think this is part of her plan to convince me to have kids sooner

Margarita: *laughs* I have to say she’s doing pretty well with Vernon, I love it when they laugh

Keira: Uh, anyway, we were wondering, since you’re a baker on the side Stefan, would you consider making our wedding cake?

Stefan: Sure thing! I have a free day tomorrow. Any special requests?

Keira: I think she said she’d like a pink one

Margarita: We had a pink wedding cake!

Stefan: Here, I’ll take him off your hands

Keira: Gracias

To her surprise Keira feels sad giving the infant back, especially as he smiles and giggles at her. Marta’s plan might be working.

Keira: Marta, sweetheart, time for dinner

Marta: Si, coming. Gracias for having us

Margarita: It was lovely to see people who can talk back

The whole group laugh as Stefan puts Oli on the playmat. Let me tell you, he is not happy our sims are leaving. After bursting into tears he glares angrily at his parents while we leave.

Previous ... Next

[moonshynecybin]

i always find it fascinating how the whole rosquez relationship is (now more than ever) entirely on vale's terms. like if they are good, it's solely because vale decides it's so; like if he was happy enough with how racing was going/ or is happy enough with marc to be nice to him, he is nice and they're okay or whatever. if they're bad, it's solely because vale is pissed off about something that marc has (or hasn't) done and marc has to wait until he's earned the honour of vale's attention again. and it makes me feel sad for marc that it seems sometimes as though he just kind of sits and waits and will take whatever scraps of attention he's given from vale, like girl get up and know your worth, you are marc freaking marquez.

my actual favorite rosquez moments are when marc remembers this and decides to go absolutely apeshit. starts killing people. like in a way that’s what so fun about the race at sepang in 2015— he’s being so deliberate in how he baits vale there, it’s a CONCENTRATED effort to tell him he’s wrong and he fucking hurt marc’s feelings. he’s burning his exes entire house down and it RULES like it’s high drama 2 me. god forbid women do anything. and THEN at my beautiful wife misano 2019 <3 when vale and him tangoed during quali (absurd dick move from vale lol) and then marc was fifth on the grid, and he STILL came back and WON the race through pure fuck you energy after battling fabio… SEXY. he can and does stand up for himself !

like i do think he’s resigned himself to always caring about vale. it’s part of him, part of his racing career, and big wound in his life. and he knows himself pretty well… so i don’t think he’s naive about it anymore— vale will always be his hero and his idol and someone he was friends with, and whatever actions from vale’s end have given him enough hope that things will change that he can’t let entirely go. like it’s a smart PR move to emphasize the beef being one-sided but there a million different ways he could handle vale questions and being so public with wanting to reconcile is uh. certainly a statement.

AND i think that if vale wanted to reconcile it WOULD take a little actual work. some wonderful groveling. vale in his old man creaky knees. like as much as marc wishes he could just ignore/fix it and go back to when he was 22 and in love (and with an arm that works), life doesn’t work that way... it’s gonna take some actual effort. they’re gonna have to work through some stuff… and i do think marc understands that now !

[buriedpentacles]

Dropping back in to share more about rabbits!! I feel they’ve been more messengers in my case, they tend to be around after I’ve made an important decision. Seeing one always feels like a good thing though, that they try to point me in the right direction. For example, I quit a job this summer that had given me a lot of grief and as I pulled out of the parking lot one was sitting in the middle of the street. It moved to the side of the road as I drove forward, followed me for a few beats, and off it went. For as skittish as they are, I always take it as a good sign when they follow the same path I am before making their exit, as if I’m on the right path.

Even in the rural town I’m from they aren’t incredibly common, I always see more deer, raccoons, and possums around. They’re absolutely less common in the city, and yet I’ve managed to move to a school and a neighborhood that is bordering on infested with them. I could count on one hand the number of squirrels I’ve seen in the last few years, but I see at least three rabbits every day. Again, I’ve been taking it as a sign that that’s where I should be. If, as you said, prey animals feel that safe there, then I should as well.

Aside from their physical presence, I’ve found that rabbit imagery almost follows me around as well. Part of this is just my gravitation towards it, but even yesterday a family member played a song for me that I happened to like. Lo and behold, the album cover is a rabbit. Another instance is an ornament my great grandmother made for me, the only thing of her’s I have, which also happens to be a rabbit.

Overall, I tend to think of them as familiars or guides and always find them in the places where I feel conflicted or need reassurance. For as long as this has been going on, I’ve yet to really reach out to them directly because I feel they show themselves when they know they’re needed. In return, I try to show as much kindness and respect to them as I can. I just think they’re neat :)

If you’ve got any tips on reaching out to spirits and rabbits specifically I’d love to hear them!!

Oh wow!! That is so amazing to hear, they definitely seem super important to you and really connected. It's so cool to me to hear other's experiences and perspectives! I think Rabbit is likely a guide to you; a spirit presence that wants to help you and cares for you.

I have my rabbit skull sitting beside me now, actually, and it is honestly a very wonderful and fun spirit to work with (from what I've gathered so far).

In terms on working with and reaching out to rabbit I'd advise the same things I advise with any animal spirit:

Where possible, meet them on their turf (for Rabbit, this may be a field or some place you've seen many of them before)

Leave an offering for them - bonus points if it's something beneficial to their living counterparts (i.e. soem cat food for a fox or hedgehog, for Rabbit it may be clover or flowers)

Speak clearly and make your intention known. "Spirit of Rabbit, my name is [name] and I want to work with you. I wish to [insert major intention i.e. create abundance in my life, build confidence, learn from you, etc] and would be honoured to Know you."

Ask for a sign/confirmation from them - I like to ask for a specific sign and then confirm with tarot, but you can also just confirm using divination or just a specific sign. Personally, I ask that they leave a physical symbol (such as a bone) so that I may have something to focus on during communication. It helps if you set a timeline and be specific.

Don't overstay your welcome. Respect the spirit and it's answer. Communicate with them if they permit it and ensure that boundaries are set, intentions are made clear and an agreement is made.

It's pretty touch and go once you've established a relationship - it's up to you to figure out how you best work in spirit relationships and how to make that specific one work.

This isn't a super in depth guide, this is just some basic points on what I do when reaching out to spirits for btoh short and long term relationships.

[wellthebardsdead]

Clow Good end 1 pt2 (Infernal Stalemate/Paved with Good intentions)

Part 1 here

———

*6 months later*

Clow: *arrived to withers party in a burst of hellfire, tail swishing slowly and icy horns glinting in firelight as he walks between circles of his friends reminiscing and enjoying company he’d been without for a while* godfather- I- all I did was get rid of your engine and give you your heart back and you’re giving me that honour?! I-

Karlach: *now several months pregnant after Clow used his new found powers for the first time to help her* only?! You’ve really no clue how much everything you’ve done means to us do you you dingbat! Yes we want you to be our tater tot’s god father! We’ve already decided their middle name will be Do’Urden!

Wyll: and our next ones middle name will be Clopin!

Clow: *visibly tears up and sets his drink down* c-can I have a hug please?

Wyll & Karlach: *both smile seeing how far he’s come since they first met*

Karlach: oh sweetums you didn’t need to ask- *pulls him into a hug with Wyll, before immediately pulling away and grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling it down as she sees a bruise* has he been hurting you?!

Wyll: gods- *looks to the other side of his neck* did he choke you?! What is-

Clow: *visibly blushing knowing what they’re actually looking at* no he didn’t choke me- th-those are- *coughs* l-love bites. He and Haarlep got carried away again.

Karlach: Again- I, so he’s not hurting you then?

Wyll: you can tell us if he is Clow we-

Clow: he’s not hurting me, I promise, not without… my consent at least. *looks down with a shy playful grin* they take good care of me… I promise. *smiles and hugs them both again before walking off to continue mingling* I’ll see you both later.

???: Clow?…

Clow: … *turns around to see Gale standing behind him* …

Gale: I know I’ve no right to tal-

Clow: *pulls him into a gentle hug and smiles as he lets go and steps back* you don’t have to be sorry… my plan still worked out in the end… we get the hammer, Mystra gets the crown. My soul gets sacrificed. I expected to be enslaved for eternity or violently tortured and compressed into a soul coin but… Raphael had other plans.

Gale: I… sacrificed?… you were going to give me the crown?…

Clow: Mhm. I knew I couldn’t give it to Raphael in the end and he certainly lets me know how upset he is about it. And you needed the orb gone. So, give up my life to fix yours and save millions more. I never really had a life or concept of freedom to begin with and… it’s been good. Raphael treats me very good. It’s been an adjustment being a devil at his side and all and no longer needing food or having a great concept or grasp of passing time. But… I’m getting there.

Gale: you… You only just got your freedom, a chance to live life on your terms and I took that away from you. Now you’re stuck with that fiend how- how are you not angry? At me? At him?!

Clow: *sighs* Look. you did what you thought was right. And so did I… besides… *smiles and swishes his tail* I love him… *gives him another hug* goodnight, Gale. *walks off*

Gale: *standing there mortified that he could just be okay with all this* goodnight… *looks over at Wyll and Karlach before nervously approaching* Karlach… do you know anything about the sword of Zariel?

Karlach: just that it’s surrounded by an ever growing scab, why?

Wyll: what’s wrong Gale?… *looks past him to see minthara creeping up on him*

Gale: I think… I might need the blade if Raphael and Clows relationship isn’t all he’s telling u-

Minthara: *grabs Gale by the nape of his neck and yanks him back* You three listen to me and you listen very well. I did not cast aside my distaste for water and spend hours swimming until I collapsed to search for his body after you attempted to kill him just for you to try and ruin his life again. He has a good thing now, an existence he is happy with, and so help me I will end you if you attempt to take that from him. *lets go and storms off after Clow with a huff*

*a few hours later*

Clow: *returns to the house of hope and immediately runs and jumps into Raphael’s arms as he sees the devil waiting for him* I’m back!

Raphael: I’m glad~ how was your little party?

Clow: good, everyone is doing very well!

Raphael: that’s good- *gives him a kiss and whisks him away back to their room* welcome home, my love…

[rebornofstars]

* I know I’m technically a focus on art but I also want to chat as writer—what’s one of your favorite troupes that you rarely write whether it’s because you feel you can’t do it justice or just because you don’t? Me personally I am an AVID fan of mind bending/un-reality fics, but I can never write them to a satisfactory level. They’re so fun to read especially when they’re multi-chapter and you’ve gotta theorize on wtf is going on!!! It’s quirky and fun!!!! No one knows what’s going on and I ADORE that type of confusion. Learning to write is fun but I’m not at that level yet and I’m excited for when I can GGHRAAAHHH!!!!

OH BOY. oh boy. hello there thank you so much for the ask i absolutely love it. this took me a while to respond to because i had to get my thoughts in order 😅 i like a good never-say-never attitude, but there are many many things i write that are not as good as the blurry versions of themselves rotating around the inside of my head! the potential, u know? i can never do the potential justice. somehow i don't think that will ever change.

one thing i definitely struggle with is long-term character development - whether it's romantic, like a slow burn, or platonic or just in terms of narrative structure, whatever. i can't seem to get it happening to my satisfaction. i am so comfortable collecting snapshots of specific points of a character's journey, but when i try to slowly allow them to grow and change, it always feels cheap idk 😬😭 i'm also not so good at writing stories which span a longer period of time and/or have timeskips. it's mostly due to lack of practice with longer stories, and i'm working on improving!

in terms of more specific tropes or genres, though.... mysteries. i can never figure out how heavy or subtle the foreshadowing should be. comedy is also hard, although i've been practicing that one and i think i'm slowly getting the hang of a few different styles that are more humourous. and sometimes i read, like, Feist and Wurts' Empire trilogy, or Rothfuss' The Name of the Wind, and realise all over again i have a looooong way yet to go when it comes to introducing worldbuilding into a story naturally and intuitively. also, this might be silly, because the LU fic i'm most known for is literally about this, but reveals? i'm not so confident i can live up to the hype or satisfactorily fulfill the tension i've built. i hope my cursebreaker readers are not going to be disappointed by the payoff/reveal i have planned 🤞🤞😁

that being said, though, i keep writing all of those tropes and genres anyway, and it's really an honour to have the space and encouragement to be giving it a shot. i'm so grateful that all my recurring readers have put their trust in me and my ability to deliver a good story. throughout my childhood writing has always been a very solitary endeavour for me and i cannot express how much fun i've been having on ao3 over the last year, and tumblr the last few months. i've never had a fandom community like this before 💕 and i like to think that while i'm still growing my skills, i also have the potential inside me for anything, if i give it a good shot and keep at it. i think we all do.

i'm very sorry for all of this word vomit 😁 i guess, to chat as a writer, all i can say is i also LOVE reality bending stories, and they're SO FUN and you're SO RIGHT, and i don't have so much one problem writing as i do a lot of smaller more general ones, because i like to throw myself into my problems head-first, and i believe that you too have a million potentials inside you if you keep at it, and i for one am very, very excited to see where you go. i guess this whole answer was a gesture of enouragement, in the end. 🤩🥰

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 10 Thoughts

Chapter Ten for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group! A slightly shorter commentary on my part this time, but with a queer little headcanon of mine right at the start.

This one is very poetry heavy at the start with the fisherman and woodcutter. It’s very interesting to see how this kind of poetry works through the examples they are showing off.

Also… they’re cottage-core husbands your honour, there is simply no other way I can see them. Hear me out, during their back and forth each one of them is trying to convince the other of moving in with them.

The woodcutter in particular started the debate and continues it every time, he certainly pines after his friend, pun intended.

Meanwhile the fisherman is the first one to mention the more traditional family unit once in a while but it doesn’t feel very serious, he’s just going with the flow of the poetry, pun once more intended.

Then they compose poems together, which are literally called linking-verse! In the J.F. Jenner translation it’s said that they match couplets, which is an equally cute term as linking-verse in my opinion.

And after that they banter as they are worried for each other! Husbands!

“Good friends would even die for each other!” or in the J.F. Jenner translation “I'm your friend; I'd die for you.” Either phrasing is a totally normal thing to say as friends, sure. One might call them “close friends”.

The German translation unfortunately doesn’t contain any of those poems. They cut out a lot of poetry in general, which is the only somewhat unfortunate thing I have noticed about it so far.

Moving on to what might be considered the main plot with the dragon. The whole fishing issue could have been resolved much more easily by just telling the fisherman outright that he is fishing too much for it to be sustainable and that he’ll suffer too once all the fish are gone. The fisherman is a scholar too after all, so surely he’d have understood and both parties could have come to some sort of conclusion together.

Or the Dragon King could have played matchmaker so the fisherman goes to live with the woodcutter instead, I’m just saying. Anyways.

Again with the overblown punishment! And once again it is a dragon that is immediately sentenced to death, how curious. He didn’t even not follow the given orders, he merely shifted the times a little and the amount of rain was a bit less, which is easily fixable. I wonder did he even get to plead his case? Atone for his wrongs perhaps? Highly doubt it. Is simple demotion even a thing when they jump straight to execution or banishment if you aren’t a dragon seemingly all the time?

Though to end on a happier note, I found that there are quite a few art pieces of the fisherman and woodcutter! So I picked out one I liked in particular. Look at them just hanging out and probably talking about poetry.

[nayatarot777]

wednesday 1st feb 2023 ~ Collective Reading

hi collective! hope you’re having a good day.

i’m seeing that today would be a good day to give some love to the darker aspects of ourselves - or rather whatever we consider that to be. it could be the parts of ourselves that we feel have been demonised or shamed - and i feel like it’s primarily about self love. that might sound like a strange message but many of us have been shamed for showing ourselves love and care, especially through making ourselves look good in order to feel good. miserable people who are ugly on the inside (and who probably feel ugly physically too) have thrown jealous ass, hating ass energy towards us over the course of our lives for doing what they can’t bring themselves to do. however that’s their problem. for them to even be threatened by us, they must’ve seen beauty in us in the first place right? something that they don’t feel like they could ever have. which is why these bitches didn’t want us to see that within ourselves. because they knew that if we did recognise it, we’d be untouchable. now’s the time to identify it again though. look in the mirror for a good minute or two (or three or four - however long you want to 😂) and try to see your physical state of being from your higher self’s perspective. remember that beautiful, cute ass infant child that you were (and still are in many aspects?). you’re them - but just grown now. would you call them ugly or nit pick at their appearance? hopefully not. it’s a disservice to do that to yourself because you ARE them. they haven’t gone anywhere and neither has your internal and physical beauty. people have just clouded your view from it with their bs and fuckery. if you could go back in time, you’d never tell your 5 year old self that they’re going to grow up to be ugly would you? no. you’d let them know that they’re going to grow into the prettiest/most beautiful/handsome person to walk this fucking Earth. and guess what? you’re the physical embodiment of that now. practice some self love - physically and in terms of emotional + mental care. this doesn’t even have to be anything drastic. try to get out of bed and shower if that’s something that you still need to do. or eat. or watch a movie. make some tea. read a book. bop to your favourite music in your room alone - and do all of this mindfully. there’s an extra message to also love and honour your anger. your anger is your protector and you may be feeling guilty for projecting it onto someone who deserved it. don’t be. again, if your inner child was provoked to anger and ended up reacting to that, would you expect them to beat themselves up about it? no. maybe their toxic ass parents would. or toxic ass teachers, bullies, and “friends” would. the provokers and perpetrators of mistreatment - but who gives a fuck about what they think when they’re the types of people who choose to deal with their personal issues in the form of abuse, mistreatment, and suppression of others? they’re not who we should be listening to, and i feel like many of us still have their ugly ass voices echoing in our minds whenever we exercise our human right to feel and express emotions. or to feel good about ourselves. you don’t deserve punishment. they’re the ones who made you feel less-than and ugly because they were threatened by you. nobody’s threatened by people who they don’t believe holds more power than them, right? they tried to dilute our power but it’s time to find it again. even if it makes you feel “egotistical” or “selfish”. there are abusive motherfuckers walking this earth with the biggest, narcissistic egos you’ve ever seen. if they can have a “healthy” or big ego, so can you - someone with a genuine heart and good intentions (unless crossed 🙃) who just wants better for themselves and others.

[shmaptainwrites]

Hey, so I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable answering this. I was just curious if you had any like tips for writing? I'm new to writing, especially about Wilson, and I LOVED your stories and blurbs and etc. I'm just having trouble like getting out there and getting my own ideas written as well as certain requests. Anyways again, it's totally ok if you don't have an answer! Great work, btw!

oh my goodness nonnie i’m so honoured you came to ask me about this and i’d love to share a bit about my process with you!

first i wanna put a little disclaimer: this is just my process and not necessarily some tried and tested thing, it’s just what works for me, and if it doesn’t work for you that’s okay! sometimes you’ll find things that don’t work for you before the stuff that does

so usually most of the stuff i write starts with a small concept or idea, and from there depending on how much motivation/inspiration i have i go one of two ways. if i have a lot of motivation and inspiration i often just go in head first and write without an outline and just get everything out into a document while the creative juices are still flowing.

if i’m feeling like i enjoy an idea but am a little stuck on the progression of things in my head, or i have motivation but a LOT of ideas i want to include, i’ll make an outline to help guide me, this is just really rough bullet points, sometimes interspersed with small pieces of dialogue i want to include for certain scenes

i think getting a feel for what type of things you enjoy is pretty key, but that just comes with practice which is also how you can improve your writing skills (along with reading! my english teacher always used to say a good writer is also a good reader)

i’ve done a lot of fandom hopping since i was a teen and so not being hard on myself when inspiration begins to fade for one thing or move to another helps me always come back to writing even after hiatuses that can last years (i never force myself to write if really not feeling it, because then it’s not enjoyable anymore and this should be a fun experience!)

in terms of characterization, sometimes having a beta reader who is familiar with the fandom is helpful because then they can tell you if they’re struggling to hear something in the character’s voice or think they may respond to a situation differently than you had described

i think all writers have certain preferences for certain parts of stories, for example, i know some people who much prefer dialogue to description or vice versa, now sometimes when you’re stuck there’s ways to get around doing one or the other, but really you can do whatever you want as long as the flow of your story is good. also on this topic, if you’re really feeling drawn to writing a particular scene that’s not linearly next in your storyline, do it anyways! there’s no rules that say you have to write your story linearly, if jumping around from scene to scene works for you then go for it

okay i think this is probably a lot and i can’t really think of anything else that would be helpful at the moment, but i hope this helps on your writing journey and please feel free to continue to reach out and update me on how things are going!

edit: i forgot to mention, also don’t feel obligated to take requests if they don’t work for you! i honestly almost always have my requests closed and when i open them it’s for short periods of time and for blurbs which i find more manageable:)

[cloudsrust]

I have a lot on my mind after that ending and I truly need to write it down before I actually spontaneously combust so- Parallels between Azira/Crowley and Nina/Maggie and Crowley’s independence from Hell vs Aziraphale’s dependence on Heaven (especially in fighting) HERE I GO- (Tried to also make TLDR but I'm not great at those eh-)

1- Parallels between Crowley/Aziraphale and Nina/Maggie

Your honour they’re a mirror- but seriously, if there were any doubts on it, the Ball scene in which both couples dance at the exact time had to be the final confirmation. But anyway- the parallels between these two “wannabe couples” are truly something. Going into the serie we are led to believe, through their appearance, personality and a bit through their occupations, that Maggie is supposed to fully mirror Aziraphale (vintage wardrobe and likes, really sweet but that wants to assert herself and appear more courageous (which she is, just in a dumbass way.. just like the angel)), while Nina mirrors Crowley (dark and more modern clothes, very direct and sarcastic but it’s apparent she has a lot of baggage that she carries around, has difficulty asking for help wanting to fix everything herself). But relationship wise? They switch. Maggie is an emotional dreamer that knows that life can’t be a bed of roses (it’s mostly thorns with a few petals thrown around tbh) but that still desperately wishes for a happy ending where everything works out in the end- she is also the first one to make a step towards her crush, awkwardly but she tries her best by offering something she enjoys- (Crowley offering Azira food and wine? The latter that he came to enjoy first? Yeah.) and OH not even checking on her precious record shop to instead help out Nina, leaving it behind to help and stay with the one she cares for.. just like Crowley did with both his precious car and hell.

While Nina is someone that seems attached to her routines and, especially, her duties (her worrying about her coffee shop opening late even after she almost died by a demonic horde attack- she cares a lot to maintain her day to day alright.) and she is also stuck in a toxic relationship until Lindsay herself literally kicks her out of their ,possibly, shared house/apartment. She would’ve stayed in that relationship if the other one hadn’t completely cut ties with her, she would've stayed with someone that accused her of being selfish, only thinking about herself and that was VERY controlling on a daily basis. Nina also doesn’t seem like a very showy kind of person when it comes to love or affection, her love language perhaps being simply worrying for the other one, (then again we didn’t see a lot of her post relationship, so just my guess) and she is also someone that needs time for things to change (not because she didn’t jump into Maggie’s arms the moment her relationship was over, no no, it’s because of how she stayed in that stagnant relationship- it feels as if she didn't want things to change.). And I’m sure many have already seen this point but- Lindsay is to Nina exactly how Heaven is to Aziraphale. 

Crowley and Maggie are, well.. were, at the same square: waiting for the other to be ready. Now Crowley is back at Maggie’s “post shop blackout’s fight”.

Aziraphale is behind Nina in terms of squares: he is still in that toxic relationship and that, now that he feels he has the power to do so, he is desperately trying to fix by going back to Heaven. And if the parallels goes on, Aziraphale might also find himself thrown out- this time for real.

TLDR; In terms of relationship's views, Azira is the mirror or Nina while Crowley is the mirror of Maggie. Crowley has been in the "waiting for you to be ready" for a good while and now he is back at the step of the "fight at the coffeeshop during the blackout". Aziraphale he is still in a toxic relationship with Heaven (Nina and Lindsay parallel) and is still at the step of wanting to make things work out and fix the relationship while shutting out who really cares for him.

2-Crowley’s independence from hell vs Aziraphale’s dependence on heaven

There are many instances in which we see it. Crowley has fought tooth and nail to fully cut himself off from Hell and ,at least mentally, I’m sure he already was on his own waaay before the whole Armageddont ordeal. Aziraphale in comparison has simply.. took a step away from them, just gently slid to the side (Great, now we got the Demon that simply sauntered downwards and the Angel who just gently slid to the side. You’re welcome Neil.) but mentally he isn’t over them at all, like AT ALL. (to badly quote the “But it’s so nice to have someone to tell the things you’ve done to now that I don’t report anymore”, he is still trying to fix his bloody routine into something more normal- he hasn’t fully accepted being a rogue angel at all.).

I mostly would like to point it out with how they choose to fight though.

Crowley when he has to fight always chooses to use either his own mind or his own stuff: Season 1, at the Armageddon, all he has as a weapon is that thingy from his dear car (I have no idea what that’s called, I'm so sorry Crowley;;) and his powers/mind that he uses to both stop time and talk to Adam AND, before that, to not burn alive in his Bentley (it’s not a demonic thing since Hastur discorporates in the fire, that’s all Crowley’s doing). There is the bit in which he technically used a heavenly weapon, the Holy Water, to destroy Ligur- but that for me only demonstrates even more how much he DOES NOT care for either side. Using a weapon from the opposition? Yeah sure why not. Destroying your own kind (which is apparently frowned upon in Hell)? Yep, he got what was coming to him. 

Season 2, at the attack on the bookshop, he still just uses his mind to trick Shax into letting the humans get to safety- he doesn’t even use any real rule from Hell, he just makes something up that sounds convincing enough to work.

Also- Crowley is always shown being very distant to the other demons, and in season 2 he doesn’t even try to hide how much he isn’t interested in their conversations or the job they’re doing at the moment, even to BEELZEBUB THEMSELVES- Hell he only starts breaking a sweat when they mention Aziraphale, until then he was just bothered. 

Now let’s see Azira.. he is very, very dependent on Heaven:

Season 1, at the Armageddon, he ends up wielding a flaming sword that resembles to an extreme amount the one he was assigned (and gave away which- could I hazard a “I tried to get rid of it but in the end here it is (a copy of it) in my hand again”?)) by Heaven back at the Eastern Gate. And before that, to try and stop it he calls upon the Metatron to try and speak to God Herself, straight up using an Heavenly Circle (which also ends up discorporating him and leading to the events of the bookshop catching on fire, which yes it was an indirect consequence but.. I don’t know I like to see it as a cautionary tale about how toxic Heaven is to him.) The only demonic thing I can give him the props of doing is taking over, well- sharing, a human body, which apparently Heaven doesn’t really like. (Not counting the Holy Water thing because it would harm Hell more than it would harm Heaven.)

Season 2, at the attack on the bookshop, to stop the demons he once again uses the Heavenly circle, and once that falls he is completely helpless- Nina and Maggie are the ones who keep trying to fight with anything they can (his books to his dismay.. that poor bookshop keeps on suffering). The only last thing he tries is using his literal Holy Halo has a sort of grenade (which, the moment I saw, I liked to see it as a symbolic “I’m letting go of a very important angelic part of me to protect the humans which I actually hold dear”, and that could still be- but I also now see it as him still relaying desperately on his angel’s status).

ALSO- Aziraphale is still trying to keep his Heaven’s connection as pristine as he can, he invites them in, he is polite (even humoring Muriel’s whole thing while Crowley was ready to de-mask the poor thing at the first slip up), he tries his best to lie and maintain his facade of a good angel with the whole love thing. And he is scared. He is still deeply scared of Heaven, of the other Archangels and of the Metatron (he is on edge when he is going out the bookshop with them, while Crowley spoke to them as if they were just a stupid floating head you’d see in a bad Luna Park). But he still chooses to help out the one that wanted both him and Crowley dead, GONE. He is afraid but he still believes in Heaven being the good guys, or at least they have the ability to be.. maybe with his help. 

TLDR; Crowley is very independent with what he uses to fight and help himself, he also has clearly shown he doesn't care about Hell at all. Aziraphale is instead very dependent of Heavenly props to fight and help himself, as much as he wants to think he has accepted being a rogue Angel he is still not ready to leave Heaven behind.

-

That ending- I don’t think it’s out of character for Aziraphale to make that choice. Both he and the Demon want to do what they think is best for the other: Crowley wants to give his Angel a precious, fragile, peaceful human existence, just the two of them doing their own thing- no Heaven or Hell to think about. But for Aziraphale that “fragile” is a problem, I feel like he knows that they cannot just run away from their respective sides and go live in peace. And he wants to fix that at its core- first by offering to make the Demon and angel again, back to the good old times, then by presenting his hope that he can make everything better, fix Heaven and all of its problems. Unlike Crowley, he doesn’t know that you can’t cure a rotten apple- but he is still deeply attached to Heaven and he will stay there- even if that could mean rotting alongside it.

I say that but- something bothers me about that damned coffee offering from the Metatron. It’s so specific, so unlike them- they were being way too kind, a contrast to how dismissive they were when they first spoke with Aziraphale. 

And the way Azira’s expression was twisting in the elevator- he could’ve been going through all the stages of grief alongside Crowley or putting on a smile for when he arrived at the top but.. that smile at the end I just- dammit it really bothers me. Something is still up in the Up I swear.

[thevillainswhore]

Okay now this one hit different 😭 Ray what an outstanding piece of writing 🥹 I’m floored by how intricate you’ve made the bond between Bucky and his wife. Their connection and love blooms to life with your words ❤️

Literally as soon as we dig into the fic, we see Bucky’s inner thoughts and how he can’t believe his life and the result of it after all he’s been through. That already broke me because he deserves nothing but good things and you’ve given him that 😭

A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

Reading that line made me ugly cry. How beautiful a message, by just a touch Bucky is reminded of how much stability and comfort you bring into his life 🥹 honestly one of my favourites I’ve ever come across ❤️

“My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that’s one of the realest feelings I’ve ever experienced.”

Truly another one of the most wonderful lines I’ve ever read. Bucky hasn’t had much he can count on in terms of his life and his experiences. But to know his soon to be wife assures him that what she feels for him is real and alive for me good 😭

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?”

This was such a simple yet amazing thing to include because they’re married and he’s still asking her on dates, still trying to woo her and keep that spark alive from the first weeks of dating. This man is just perfection 🥹

I had to include an honourable mention of Sam and the way he slaps Bucky on his ass, I went from tears rolling down my face to ugly snorting, cackling with laughter 🤣🤣

And then you treat us with a gorgeous snippet of their first meeting. No doubt Bucky’s self esteem would have been low and almost non existent. But then he sees her drop her shoulders, not viewing him as a threat and I lost it 😭 in a time where Bucky would have been adjusting to his new life where most people were wary of him, he comes across a stranger who doesn’t run at the sight of him 🥹

“You don’t have to leave.”

BUCKY 😭😭 you’re killing me 😭😭 Ray you’re writing is truly so good that this one line shattered my already fragile heart how dare you 😭

And then you repair my heart again with the ending, giving them a chance to meet again 🥹 how clever to add the cute little flashbacks and their first greeting after introducing them as married. I bow to you because this piece was phenomenal. Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful fic with us 🥹❤️✨

Sweet Life Of Mine

Summary: Life works in mysterious ways and Bucky would go through it all again if it meant he’d get to experience the rest of it with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!reader

CW: fluff, a bit of teasing, flashbacks are italicized and thoughts are in bold and italicized[2.4k]

A/N: As always the cute line dividers were made by @firefly-graphics 🌸 I’ve decided to turn this into a two-parter 🙂‍↔️ Special recognition to @buckys-wintersoldier without her encouragement I probably would’ve trashed this fic early on in the process😂 and @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me yap and helping me come up with ideas when I would get stuck😍I am so thankful for both of them and y’all should check out their works because they are wonderful!!!💖 With that being said this fic has grown on me a lot and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🥹 Dialogue is not my strong suite so I apologize if any of the lines sound corny🤧 I don’t give anyone permission to copy, translate or repost my works on here or other sites😊 Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

Bucky absentmindedly breaks down the last few cardboard boxes, taking in your newly furnished living room. Photos of you and your respective families are scattered along the walls and on top of your antique furniture. Plants strategically placed around the room and the gorgeous lamps you picked out created a welcoming atmosphere.

He throws the last box on top of his makeshift pile, wondering how all of the broken roads of his life led him to this moment, how he got his dream girl, a woman who accepted him with his baggage and loved the parts of him that he deemed unpleasant, physically and mentally. It all felt so surreal to him.

As the time grew closer for the wedding to start, Bucky couldn’t help but pace his dressing room floor. He occasionally looked in the mirror to fix his hair or wipe his face with another paper towel before throwing it away in the almost-filled trash can. He felt like his throat was constricted and began fidgeting with his tie. Eventually, he gave up and hunched over a table, trying to remind himself that everything was okay.

The weight of a hand rubbing his back, slowly grounded him for a moment. Steve’s voice sounded muffled in his ears but grew clearer as Bucky took in deeper breaths and continued to focus on the circular motion of Steve’s movements. “Buck, do you want me to get her for you?” The small “please” he lets out is all it takes for Steve to rush to your room.

Bucky stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from on top of a dresser. He was almost finished with it when a soft knock caught his attention.

“Baby?” You say opening the door slightly and sticking your hand through the gap. A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

“You ready to be stuck with me for life, Hotshot?” You tease, grinning as you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

"I should be asking you that, Gorgeous,” he breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something than I am at the thought of marrying you. I’m just worried that I’ll somehow mess this up or this is one big dream. I’m afraid that at any second I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and find myself sitting on that old apartment floor, where instead of hearing that lovely voice of yours, it’ll be the older lady next door yelling because she muted her TV again or the loud honks from angry New Yorkers." He rests his head against the door and clutches the doorknob with his metal hand.

“Can you feel that, Bubba?” you say, placing his hand on your chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart beating against his fingertips. “My heart beats like this when I see or listen to you. When I think about being able to wear your ring on my finger, taking your last name, and one day being the mother of your children. My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that's one of the realest feelings I've ever experienced.”One thing Bucky loves about you is you’ve never judged him for expressing his fears, and you’re always there to support him when his insecurities eat away at his progress.

He can hear Natasha's distant voice calling for you and smiles softly.

“I’ve got to head back for last-minute touch-ups, but I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, right?” You reach for his hand on your chest, gently kissing his palm before reconnecting your hands together.

“I’ll be there waiting for you. I love you, Gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your fingers.

“I love you too, Hotshot.” And with that, you slip your hand from his loose grip and through the door, your hurried steps echoing in the hall. Steve enters a moment later, noticing that the previous tension in Bucky’s body has almost completely disappeared.

“Let’s go make you a married man, Buck.”

“What are we waiting for, punk,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back playfully, laughing with each other as they walk out of the room, ready to make his dreams come true.

“Hey Gorgeous, I’ve got a question for you.” Bucky groans out as he starts straightening up his mess.

“Ask away, Hotshot.” You utter, your voice resounding slightly in the foyer as you hang up a picture of the two of you on your wedding night.

Humming along to the soft music from the living room while admiring how Bucky’s skin glowed under the golden hues from the sparklers your friends and family surrounded the two of you with. You can still feel the love radiating from him just by looking at his tender smile and remembering how his deep blue eyes twinkled with fondness as he gazed at you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?” You smile at the steady sound of footsteps approaching you. A pair of hands enclose your wide hips, and Bucky’s chin rests on your shoulder as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Bubs.” The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through your body, and you can feel your cheeks heating up as he places a sweet kiss below your ear.

“Where are you going to take me?” You ask, grabbing his hands and placing them on your plush belly, leaning back in his embrace.

“Let’s see, I could take you to the movies, an amusement park, or maybe a pumpkin patch. The possibilities are endless.” You hear his grin before you see it, turning your head towards him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” A pout forms on your face, and you twist in his arms as he straightens up, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

“You would be correct, Gorgeous,” he says, smirking and pecking your lips. You hope he didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes as an idea popped into your head.

“How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?” You ask sweetly, letting your fingertips play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll pick out something for you.” Your head tilts and eyebrows raise in amusement.

“You…are going to choose what I wear?” Bucky rolls his eyes and licks his lower lip in thought.

“Are you questioning my fashion sense, Doll? If I remember correctly, you wear my clothes more than I do.” His hands slip down to the top of your ass drawing your body in even closer, and you roll your eyes this time.

“You’ve never put together an outfit for me before, and I like wearing your clothes because they’re comfortable and smell like you.”

“Don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about a thing tomorrow. And I’m not complaining; they look better on you than on me. You make anything you wear look amazing, especially when it's in white.” A warm smile is plastered across his face, his eyes darting up to the photo behind you, another memory from the best day of his life playing in his mind like an old film.

“Do I look alright? Am I beginning to smell?” Bucky questions Steve and Sam as he tries to smoothen out his already-perfect suit jacket. The chattering from the guests did little to calm his nerves.

“You’re lookin’ snazzy, Bucknasty,” Sam says, giving Bucky a lighthearted slap on his ass.

"You look great, Buck." Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you, man." He whispers, giving Bucky a brotherly kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back as he lets go. He thanks the both of them before turning back around, eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to grasp the idea that all of these people are there for the both of you.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the door as the orchestra played the familiar tune of the song you chose for your entrance. After all the practices and months spent planning for this moment, nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming feeling he got when the ushers revealed your figure standing at the opposite end of him.

His bottom lip quivered, and he began to blink rapidly, but his gaze never strayed away from you. The dress you picked was beautiful, the shade of white complementing your complexion, and the way it hugged you in all the right places made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He hadn't realized he was crying until you cupped his damp cheek in your palm, gently wiping away his tears while your own began to well in your eyes.

"Hi," you whispered through your watery smile, and it took everything in him not to crash his lips against yours.

You lightly glide your fingers down the side of his face, beaming up at him, already knowing where his train of thought took him. Gently tapping the side of his glasses, you watch as he slowly comes back to you, the affection in his eyes creating a warmth inside you that only he can ignite.

You wrap your arms around his midsection, and he kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head, holding you against his body a little tighter.

“I think I look good in white too.” You say casually, a giggle escaping the two of you.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, a crooked smirk forming on his face, and you pull away slightly. A smirk of your own playing on your lips as you lean up next to his ear.

“So much so that I could be convinced to recreate the boudoir photos I gave you.” You take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling slightly, a low growl rumbles in his chest, and you do your best to keep your thighs from clenching. Bucky’s hands cup your ass as he lifts you in his arms.

“I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade you, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, causing him to chuckle as he connects your lips, blindly making his way to your bedroom.

You felt a sense of tranquility despite the chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin as you strolled through the desolate yet animated park. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the soft chirping of crickets fill your ears, while you watch the beautiful glow of fireflies encircling the bushes lining the pathway.

You admire the way the clear water of the pond shimmers softly in the moonlight as you take a seat on your favorite bench. Your eyes close and the tension in your body slowly fades as you allow yourself to enjoy Mother Nature and the safe feeling she provides you.

The hairs on your arms stand up as an unsettling feeling washes over you, and the squelching of grass confirms your fears of not being alone. You open your eyes, turning your head, searching for the source that disturbed your peace. Your eyes land on a figure standing at the edge of the pond.

He must have felt your stare because the next thing you know, a pair of striking blue eyes connects with yours. He watches you curiously as you assess whether he's a threat, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips when he notices the slight drop in your shoulders before turning his gaze back to the still water.

Your lip rolls between your teeth as you consider leaving. You stand and start to walk away, but then you hear the stranger speak.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, and you turn around after a lengthy moment of stillness, wondering if you should trust him. You observe his relaxed stance, face devoid of malice, but it's his captivating eyes that draw you in and tug at your heartstrings.

There was a silent plea within them, a look you've grown used to seeing in the mirror over the years. Hoping for someone to fill the kind of emptiness that comes with having experienced too much, even if only for a short while.

You stand in silence as a family of ducks begins to swim by. A twinge of pain surges through your chests, as you both watch the last one struggle to keep up, feeling like Mother Nature is reminding you that you were once in similar positions.

The wind grows colder, causing you to cross your arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. He notices this and starts to rid himself of his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” You squeak out, taking a step back.

“Relax, you’re obviously cold and I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you stand there shivering.” You go to protest but he’s already wrapping his jacket around your arms.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers.” You exclaim, although, grateful for the makeshift shield against the cool weather.

“What are you? Ten? Would you feel better if I gave you my name?” He mocks and your eyes roll.

It’s always the pretty ones that are annoying.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” He says, your eyes grow wide and your mouth gapes open.

I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck off. I think you’re annoying too.” He barks out a laugh at that, startling you slightly, you turn your head away from him feeling a small grin make its way to the surface.

“The name’s James, but you can call me Bucky, or pretty if that’s what you want.” He winks and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tell him your name.

“Gorgeous name for an even more gorgeous girl,” he pauses as his phone goes off and a deep sigh leaves his lips when he checks the notification.

“I hate to depart like this, but duty calls.” He says backing away slowly, waving his phone in his hand. You go to give him his jacket, but he starts making a disapproving noise.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers, Gorgeous.” A sly smirk forms on his face before he spins around, gradually disappearing from your line of sight.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself, pulling the leather around you tighter as you begin to head back to your car, wondering if you’ll ever run into him again.

[writ-in-violant]

The Sharp-Eyed Stormwatcher meets a friend for tea, as they approach the second phase of the Marvellous:

“Professor,” the Lily greets. He pulls out a chair for Vivian, as though they were some society belle -- he always has. Vivian has stopped giving him shit for it. “How -- ah. I suppose it is foolish to ask how you are faring, as of late.” 

Vivian is aware they probably look…disreputable. Their cravat is askew and untucked. Their vest’s buttons may be mismatched. They’ve pushed up their sleeves, which helps them cool off but bares their scarred forearms to the world. Their hair might still be singed. They’ve never felt more alive. 

“I’m fine, Terry,” Vivian says, hoping their smile looks reassuring and not deranged. “I’m -- it’s close. I placed in the middle in the Honour -- you don’t need to know the details. I’m not even sure I can tell you,” they admit. The Lily -- Terry Leirion, their once-roommate whilst he was paying other bills and Vivian needed help making rent -- narrows his eyes at them. His past, checkered as it is, has given him a fine eye for someone who is bullshitting. 

“Word on the street is that you’re in and out of the Bazaar all the time, lately. Buying up secrets and rumours like nothing else, and selling even your Enigmata. What’s happening, Vivian?” His eyes are serious. He knows how carefully they saved every Searing Enigma they could find, the caution they always treated their hoard of London’s secrets with. Of course he would be the one who caught their behavior, who wasn’t willing to brush it off as the half-mad Professor off on another wild tear. Vivian sighs. 

“Terry. I’m fine. This is -- this is what I gathered everything for,” they admit. “This is it. Everything on the line. Everything on the line in every game. That’s what it’s all about, you see? A prize at the end and a challenge around every corner. My opponent -- no, I’ll not be saying who it is, you can guess if you wish to -- spread my secrets across London.” They smile again. They don’t know how it looks on them. “Now that I’ve dealt with that, I have to cut off his options before we meet for a match. That’s all. I’d be disappointed if he didn’t try something like this, honestly.” They would. They always considered the Bishop of St. Fiacre’s an intelligent, canny man; part of the joy of the Marvellous is testing themself against people such as him. 

“Well. God knows I can’t stop you, Vivian,” The Lily sighs, leaning back. “What else is happening in your life? I heard there was something about you returning to the Royal Beth recently--” 

It’s a mark of how long the Lily has known them, Vivian thinks, that he doesn’t seem too concerned by their return to a state of some confusion and what others term “insanity.” They smile and indulge him in some of their stories, and ask after his theater and his husband. They’re at an outside table at Beatrice’s; Vivian does their best to pay attention to the Lily’s speech, but their eyes keep drifting up, following the tall spires of the Bazaar into the dark. The tea with the Lily is good. Keeps them grounded, keeps them sharp, and they’ll need that for their next few weeks. 

“Vivian,” the Lily says, as they both collect their coats and begin to leave. His eyes are kind, which is never a great sign when someone is about to ask Vivian a question. “What are you looking for? Is it -- will it be worth it?” 

…what was Vivian looking for, huh. Their eyes drifted back along to the spires reaching up in the Bazaar. There were so many answers they could give: when I first came here, I listened to the drownies sing, and learned I was destined for Authority. When I was younger than that, I lived my life entirely at the whims of others’ kindness or lack thereof, and I refuse to do that again. There is a science down here that lets you become greater than what you were born as. There is power at the end of the game. There is a path to Authority. I do not know what it will make me but I would take so, so much to never again be who I was. 

But all of that, even to the Lily, is too much to admit into the stale air of the Neath, so Vivian only smiles. This one, they’re almost sure, is reassuring. “It will be worth it.” 

They’ll make it worth it.