#why are they not able to beat the allegations?

[ms-boogie-man]

"As we speak, Andrew Tate and this brother Tristan are on their way from Romania to the US. The Tates are suspected of rape (including of minors), human trafficking and money laundering, not only in Romania but also in the UK. Despite the travel ban, they were able to travel to the US under pressure from the Trump administration. This is the kind of people the Trump administration, including their new saint Elon Musk, is protecting. Anyone who condemns abuse of women and minors is "a liberal" and "a retard". This isn't a conspiracy theory like Pizzagate, these criminals are for real. Anyone who corrects fake news, false information and lies by the president himself is a "liberal" and a "retard", even if they are famous historians. The Republican Party, which has become a cult, wants to re-write history for the next generations to come. As far as Imane Kheilif is concerned, she was born as a woman and is still a woman. She may not be the prettiest woman on earth for some and that may trigger real Adonises like Trump and Musk, of course."

@musicandoldmovies … your comment 👆🏼 in the Notes landed in my Activity Monitor so I assume you are speaking to me I will try to keep this short. If not, that will be the only thingy I fail at in here

The Tate brothers are suspected — your wording — of rape, human trafficking, and money laundering. From what I know of the case, there are accusations only, no actual proof has been produced. Too, from what I have heard, the accusations come from corrupt people. Meaning, the accusations began with officials, then the 4 women were produced. That is a little suspect IMO… this coming from a female yo I am not siding with the Tate bros, nor will I argue their case any further until that case has been seen thru to completion. If that never happens, the case never was to begin with. HERE is something though. In this article, 4 women accused the Tate bros. For some reason, the case was thrown back to the prosecutors. That is a bold move by anyone in any country. There must be a reason for it. In the meantime, if it is understood by the brothers that they will return if the case resumes, why should they observe a travel ban? That travel ban is just law-fare, simple. And… it looks to me like the case itself might have been Pizza-gate, on the other hand, is a fact. Every item in the scandal has been proven out as fact. There is not any conspiracy theory to it… only conspiracy fact. There is a mountain of physical, factual evidence. I myself researched this and dug up facts in the matter as far back as ‘013/014… and that is before Trump even announced his first run for president, and that is back then Elon Musk was still a liberal darling to you all The Republican Party (GOP) does not apply here. The GOP is compromised and run by the same people who run the majority of the DNC… also proven fact. Too, re-writing history is the territory of the DNC, so like many other thingys, you have that backwards. We in the MAGA movement are constitutional republicans (lowercase ‘r’) and that means we are of and for the constitutional republic, and not part of the current GOP. Full Stop. We are not a cult. And the facts are on our side. Deal with it

Re: Imane Kheilif… this person’s history and record are built on claims. Even wiki resorts to word salad and virtue signaling to speak of this person, and it all seems to be an attempt to win sympathy while skirting actual issues. Stating someone was born and raised a girl does not prove anything. I can walk out my front door this morning and tell everyone I was born and raised as a dragon … this does not mean anything. You would look at me like, Angie, sorry, you are just a little girl *I find it a little odd that you are siding with 4 women and their allegations of rape — which have remained unproven over the course of several years, then turning on your heel and siding against women when experts have accused a man of getting in a boxing ring and putting a beating on them. When it comes to fact checking services siding with this person, Imane Kheilif and their XY issue, every one of those services has sided with establishment lies in the past and I would not take their word for anything at this point

M&OM, you may want to consider just sticking to the original premise of your blog-thingy: music and old movies. You are good at that. Your jump into the political, socio-economic, and cultural realm is based in about as much fact as those old movies… which are just amusing little stories Too, if you wish to return here and debate me … I assure, you will get much, much more than you bargained for yo

Angie's Current Player Rating Power Exerted: < 25% Accuracy: 100% Damage To Opponent: 75-80% Angie's Life Level: 100% Mode: > BOSS

I am undefeated, on and off Tumblr too, btw

🦇🙃

(bat smiles)

MANIFEST

MANIFEST

[worstloki]

Characters that would rather remain silent and smile at what condemnation they get than admit true events from their perspective because who would even believe them my beloved

[rotisseries]

i don't read enough loz fic to know what the popular fanon is so maybe this already exists but there should be a revali and zelda besties agenda i think it would be good for them

[priestfrommidnightmass]

one of the saddest things abt my life is that i enjoy playing bass and being a bassist so much but i literally suck at it so much i’m so bad

[cutieln4]

PR Problem | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: in which lando's girlfriend is gorgeous, and he is not afraid to be horny on main

fc: madison beer

yourusername

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yourusername life recently :)

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yourfriend pretty girl

username1 you’re so gorjus

landonorris oh my god

landonorris i need you so bad

landonorris i’m coming home rn i can’t take it😫

username2 actually so down bad

maxfewtrell mate it’s been 2 days

landonorris please just one chance

landonorris on my knees for you🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri Zak just scheduled a PR training session for you

username3 LANDO’S COMMENTS OMG💀

username4 he’s so unhinged i love him

username5 how did lando pull her???

username6 he’s sick of the lando norizz allegations😭

username7 wish my boyfriend was as down bad as lando is

randomfootballer wow😍

landonorris yeah you can fuck off

y/nupdates

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y/nupdates Y/n in her latest photo shoot

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username1 how is she so gorgeous

username2 lando is so lucky

landonorris i know😍

landonorris oh wow

landonorris is she single?

username3 one thing is certain in life: if there’s a post about y/n, lando is gonna be in the comments

landonorris need her more than i need oxygen

landonorris i’ll be a passenger princess for you😫

danielricciardo SIMP🫵

landonorris run me over with that car pls

username4 beautiful

username5 i’d kill to have her looks

username6 once again lando is thirsting

f1wags

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f1wags Y/n spotted in Miami ahead of the race

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landonorris AWOOOGA🤤🤤

landonorris WOOF WOOF

landonorris GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

oscarpiastri Zak is disappointed again

landonorris you could beat me up and i’d thank you

username1 looked at myself and sighed

username2 just spent 20 minutes laughing at lando’s comments

username3 life is so unfair

username4 nah fr cause she’s pretty, nice, funny, has a good body, AND is dating an f1 driver

username5 PLEASE BE IN THE PADDOCK THIS WEEKEND🙏🙏

username6 fav wag

username7 she’s so out of lando’s league

username8 if lando was able to pull her, maybe the rest of us have a chance

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yourusername appreciation post for my handsome winner💞

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landonorris i love you

landonorris i’m all yours

username1 i’m crying this is so sweet

username2 i love boyfriend lando

username3 THE NOSE SCRUNCH🥹

username4 i love them

landonorris i did it for you baby🫶🫶

danielricciardo simp

landonorris yes, and?

username5 HE DID IT YESSSSSSS

username6 this is why you’re the best wag

username7 the difference in the way they compliment each other is crazy

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y/nupdates y/n in her new music video

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username1 she’s glowing wow

username2 can lando fight??

username3 face card never declines

landonorris HOLYYY MOLYYYY

landonorris that’s MY girlfriend everyone

landonorris omfg she’s so sexy🤤

landonorris i want her to wrap her legs around my head😫

username4 sorry???

oscarpiastri right, that’s enough instagram for today

username5 the horniness continues

username6 i need her to tell us her highlighter

username7 she’s so perfect it’s unfair

username8 hair is always perfect

[mv1simp]

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

—————————————————————————

A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

[sanaexus]

social's as reo's girlfriend

-liked by nagi.seishiro, kuniisuke and 198.3k others

yourusername: he loves me (trust)

tagged: reo.miikage

isaichii: is he hiding his face bc he's ashamed or bc he's ashamed? ↳yourusername: COME ON I'M NOT THAT BAD 🙁🙁 ↳isaichii: the last time we went out to a fancy place you said deez nuts to the waiter who asked for your order ↳rin.itoshi: she dressed up as cinderella to take out the trash ↳yourusername: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET?? ↳reo.miikage: i love you but what the fuck? ↳yourusername: you don't get to say that when you threw a hissy fit over nagi choosing isagi ↳reo.miikage: betrayal often comes from the ones you least expect it from

user1: did he pay you to take that picture ↳yourusername: no ↳user1: know your worth girly ↳reo.miikage: you'll never beat the gold digger allegations this way ↳yourusername: what if they aren't allegations and actually true ↳reo.miikage: what ↳reo.miikage: Y/N WDYM ↳reo.miikage: OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR WDYM BY THAT

nagi.seishiro: without me? ↳yourusername: lil man you better stafu bfr i hurt your balls bc he's with you 24/7 ↳user2: lil man ain't he like 6'0 ↳user3: sometimes lil man do be a 6'0 giant oversized mop of white hair ↳yourusername: he legit pats your hair like a cat, carries you around, pays for all your shi, kicks balls w you tf you want let me have him for sometime ↳nagi.seishiro: choki misses him ↳reo.miikage: im omw dw ↳yourusername: step out of that fucking door and i'll make sure both of you end up like kaiser ↳mikka.kaiser: UN FUCKING CALLED FOR THE FUCK DID I DO ↳yourusername: idk im js a girl ↳alexis.ness: don't feel safe no more not until i'm around ↳yourusername: i like being kidnapped /hj ↳reo.miikage: wtf

-liked by isaichii, megubachi and 187.2k others

yourusername: i've only had mr.teigo for a day and a half but if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this room and then myself

tagged: reo.miikage

chigi.who: who the fuck is mr.teigo ↳yourusername: SHUR UP GIVR HIM RECPEST YOU FOOL ↳yourusername: hes the purple ballon btw ↳sae_itoshi: shut* give* rsepect* ↳shiidoryu: YOU GOT IT WRONG TO LMFAO ↳itoshi_sae: it was fucking autocorrect ↳shiidoryu: you can be "it" i can be "autocorrect" that way you can fuck me 😊😊 ↳itoshi_sae: and they say romance is dead ↳chigi.who: are we gonna ignore the fact Y/N WOULD COMMIT MURDER FOR A FUCKING BALLOON??? ↳reo.miikage: pretty tame if you ask me ↳nagi.seishiro: it's normal ↳rin.itoshi: surprised she hasn't already ↳isaichii: v v normal ↳megubachi: my monster likes him ↳julian.loki: being honest so would i he's so cute 🎀 ↳yourusername: hOW DARE YOU TWO ASSUME IT'S GENDER !!! THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DECIDE FOR THEMSELEVES APOLOGIZE TO MR.TEIGO ↳kuniisuke: YOU CALL HIM "MR" INDICATING HE'S A MALE FUCKING DUMBASS ↳yourusuername: my balloon my rules

megubachi: i'd let mr.teigo braid my hair and then we skip to the near by garden where we swing tgt ↳yourusername: YES OMG YES !!!! ↳reo.miikage: no ↳yourusername: go be 👬 w nagi or something

user3: why do you look so 😾😾 in the first picture ↳yourusername: i pointed at a fish and said "aww look it's so cute" and without any hesitation he's like "yeah reminds me of nagi" ↳nagi.seishiro: L ↳yourusername: i'll beat your ass in fnaf come fight me lil boy ↳nagi.seishiro: i'm betting choki on it ↳oliver.aiku: GASP!11!!1!11 HE'S BETTING CHOKI?? Y/N'S GETTING COOKED ↳yourusername: like how isagi absolutely cooks you<3 ↳eita.otoya: foul? yes. do i want you to keep going? yes

-liked by chigi.who, karasu_tabito and 201.3k others

yourusername: it isn't reo without nagi

tagged: reo.miikage, nagi.seishiro

user4: the third picture LMFAO ↳yourusername: when reo realized his soccer (life) partner got stolen by some puzzle solver ↳mikka.kaiser: IT'S FUCKING FOOTBALL WE'VE GONE OVER THIS ↳hiyori: suck my dick ↳yourusername: ask ness to do that he does it to kaiser all the time, his head is prolly better ↳alexis.ness: no what the fucj ↳yourusername: 🎀👬

nikkoki: damn shawty you seem good at biting lips how ab biting mine @/reo.miikage ↳yourusername: take nagi instead pls

reo.miikage: who the fuck and I MEAN WHO THE FUCK EDITED THAT LAST PICTURE ↳yourusername: it suits you ↳reo.miikage: does not ↳chigi.who: you were plucking out the hairy part of your tooth brush to see if nagi would choose you ↳hiyori: HAIRY PART LMFAO WHAT ↳rin.itoshi: you mean bristles? ↳karasu_tabito: there's a name for that shi? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: no shit?? you don't js call it "the hairy shit on your tooth brush" ↳karasu_tabito: ... ↳eita.otoya: ... ↳kenyu.yukimiya: PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU THOUGHT THAT'S WHAT IT WAS CALLED

isaichii: wait if you two were kissing and nagi was playing video games then who the fuck took that picture? ↳yourusername: idk someone randomly dms it to me on instagram and i'm like yeah this is useful ↳reo.miikage: WHAT ↳isaichii: someone sent bro a picture of her and her bf kissing and she's like "yeah thanks" ↳yourusername: how else was i supposed to get pictorial evidence of nagi always being there ↳reo.miikage: that's js lies ↳yourusername: LOOK AT THE FUCKING PICTURE MATE

i'm so sorry this took so long and it's so mid?? but i had no motivation and i js had to post something so

[princesspetticoat]

The Muse of Her Ruin

Artist Modern AU: Chapter 1/? — Caramel

Summary:

Los Angeles was supposed to be your perfect canvas, but the struggle to make it leaves you feeling burnt out – until Agatha Harkness paints you into her world.

In her hands, you’re more than an artist, and she knows exactly how to mold you into her newest masterpiece.

Tags:

agatha!reader, age gap, mommy kink, slow burn, mean!agatha, possessive!agatha, AU: Art world of Los Angeles, portrait of a witch on fire, reader is babygirl, the witch wears prada, sugar mommy vibes, slight Rio/reader but only to make Agatha jealous, agatha can’t beat the AI allegations, dacryphilia, eventual smut, angst, MDLG, bratty bottom, BDSM, praise kink, degradation, strap-ons, anal, dub con, slight piss kink, squirting, power dynamics, possible memory loss and magic maybe idk, kitten play, electrostimulation, humiliation, overstimulation, exhibitionism for the art, let the bodies hit the floor, more tags later because i’m sure i’ll find something else to be foul about

Links: Twitter | AO3

Chapter 1: Caramel

It isn’t the first time a beautiful woman has stopped you in your doom scrolling on the internet. You’ve had your share of rabbit-holing through Instagram profiles, tagged photos, your finger hovering over the DM button with a wave of confidence that only comes when you’ve had a drink or two in your system.

But this woman, this one comes with an extension of discovery.

Just by googling her name, a thousand articles pop up. Art piece installations cascade every website, timeline, and city cultural journal. Jesus, then the red carpet photos multiply as the SEO of your web browser catches on to your sudden enthrall of dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

Oh, and the hashtags. #WitchyArt #HarknessAndDesire #CursedCanvas. Layers of art plummet before you, most requesting to select if you’d like to view the art or not because of its lewd nature, violating community guidelines.

#AgathaHarknessUnveiled

A public invitation to forbiddenness. You’re intrigued.

Then more pictures of her show up, next to her work, her models, famous celebrities that you never knew were part of the same circle. You realize you’ve been following her art closely for years, and had even gone to one of her art installations at the LACMA a couple years back.

She has no social media and you quickly piece together why you haven’t been able to put a face to the name until now. The Agatha Harkness.

You curse yourself for living and breathing on Instagram, reading little excerpts about her pieces here and there, never proceeding past searching her name up one single time after seeing her most famous artwork grace the official Broad Museum verified account:

The Unbound: Agatha Harkness - A Palette of Desire contemporary collection of ‘22.

Ask AI or Search: Agatha Harkness

…

However, you were met with the reflection of: ‘⚠️ zero search results found’ staring back at you on your phone screen, and that was that.

Now, you pull open your ‘Painting Inspo’ Pinterest board to see a piece of hers pinned neatly between other modern art you admire. The pin is plainly titled and paired with a now-purple hyperlink to an article, with one of the most commanding portraits of her in a suit, standing sharply next to her work.

It had all been right there, connected, laid out before you. You scold yourself again. You could’ve been in this woman’s circle the moment you moved to Los Angeles. Only now she’s magically moved from your subconscious to reality.

All it took was a simple Google search to be completely floored.

Right place, right time, you think, as it were. Originally, you were filtering through junior-level marketing positions, revamping your resume for the umpteenth time. Waitressing just wasn’t cutting it anymore, you needed a big girl job. Even if you didn’t have the experience.

And, to be honest, people really do act like that in Los Angeles. Customer service is nothing short of unbearable.

You’d huffed and slammed your laptop, tired of the almost-hour it took to submit one clean job application, flopped on your bed, and began the inevitable doom scroll.

And there she was, in all her glory. Featured in one major headline that caught your eye (apart from every photo ever of her maddeningly hypnotizing smile).

Grand Opening of the Harkness Collection, March 2025 — DTLA, Seeking Social Media Manager Position.

You could do it, you think.

The link to apply for the position already looks infinitely better than the bland, morose copy/paste templates thrown around every typical job website like a hot potato.

This just might get your foot in the door.

You’ve painted your whole life, always the kid doodling in the corner of your notebooks in class. You’ve done your fair share of moronically smacking people with your big art portfolio at the end of each year in high school when you rounded corners.

Art school in Portland had its ups and downs. Your father used every last penny he had to see your dreams come true, and your mother hated you for it. Blamed you, even, for sucking his wallet dry. But it was of his own accord to pay for tuition, and you had nothing else to show for it. You had a real talent.

At least, that’s what Mrs. Montgomery had told you.

Your art teacher for grades 11-12 was someone who was stern but had a mother’s touch. You really only knew the stern part back home, and then some, after the divorce.

But Mrs. Montgomery not only put you on a pedestal, she really critiqued you. She actually pushed you, improved your skills and adorned her Letter of Recommendation to your chosen college with accolades of admiration you couldn’t possibly achieve from your own mother.

If it wasn’t obvious already, you were completely smitten. And you know what else? You could trust her as far as you could throw her.

The after school meetings, the one-on-one sessions after class to help finish up an end of the year project. Anything to get a sliver of praise. Anything to prevent the bus ride home.

After college, though, you moved to Los Angeles in hopes of joining a gallery or an art community. You got sucked into the limelight, the overbearing and overwhelming nature of the city of angels. Everyone seemingly looks better than you, doing more than you, everyone trying to prove themselves somewhere. Nothing felt real.

You felt like a failure.

Email threads to galleries went stale and not to mention renting out studios could carve a hole into your credit card. It’s been three whole years since moving here after college, stuck in the same job you started with. The only real friend you made was from college, Oliver, who really was the one who dragged you out to California in the first place.

One friend, one lame job, one-room studio apartment, and no art to show for it. You start to think that this dream was meant to fizzle out and you’re supposed to become another cog in the wheel of Capitalism just like everybody else.

Whatever. You craft a partially-truthful resume, and an overzealous cover letter.

Somewhere in there you lie about managing a social media page for a cafe that doesn’t exist, and that you’ve worked with a few semi-recognizable artists in the industry as their interns. Right.

But for the record, this is working for Agatha Harkness. You’ve got to make it look like you’re somebody. You imagine yourself at her side on those red carpets, getting to pick her brain about all the art she’s created. You’ll get to show her the paintings you made, she’ll praise you, you’ll blush, and you’ll fall pathetically under her spell. Fuck.

Do you want the job or do you want her?

You suppose wanting both isn’t selfish. It’s ambitious. And you’re sick of circling around a realm that’s just out of reach.

You look at the unfinished canvases stowed in the corner of your apartment, the murky ‘mystery soup’ graying in several mason jars that scatter your work area. The dried paint, the tubes of acrylics strewn about. You can’t even remember the last time you painted.

If a hot, older woman was the motivation to be the artist you were always meant to be, then fuck it. You hit ‘submit’ on the application and sigh, closing your laptop with a better feeling of finality than the first time.

You never really get your hopes up about a job position, but for the rest of the day you find yourself tapping away anxiously, your mind scattered with the possibility of Agatha Harkness, of all people, becoming your boss.

————————————

The next morning you’re disruptively awakened by the buzzing of your phone. You begrudgingly hit ‘accept’ on the unknown number and pick up the line.

“Hello?” you answer and do your best not to sound utterly corpse-like.

“Hi!” a sweet voice greets you from the other end, “my name is Jennifer Kale, calling about the social media manager position for Ms. Harkness. Is this —?”

“Yes,” you shoot up, now seated in bed and exclaim before she can even finish her sentence. “This is she.”

She goes on to tell you how impressed she was with your resume and your expert copyright. You did always have a way with words, you forget how powerful they are as a way to get you exactly what you want.

“I saw in your CV that you have your work displayed at a cafe in Echo Park, is that right?”

You tell her of the few pieces you have displayed there and how you’ve made good friends with the owner. Jen mentions she’s relayed your portfolio, website, and resume to Agatha already and your breath instantly hitches.

She then goes to say that Agatha would like to personally meet you at that cafe for an interview. Tomorrow.

You nod and stutter a quick ‘yes’ into the speaker, forgetting you were on the phone at all. Lost in the possibility — no, actuality — of meeting Agatha.

After exchanging times and contact information, the line clicks blank and all the roaring thoughts begin to pour in. The anxiety, the expectations, the thought of being examined, let alone perceived by this powerful woman.

Your stomach kind of flutters at the thought, though. Her domineering presence picking you apart until you tell her exactly what she wants…and then she’ll hire you.

The confidence you feel mixed with the sheer horror of pretending you’re more than you say you are. You hope she doesn’t see through the lies.

But then again, so many people in the world have jobs they aren’t qualified for. They don’t even know what they’re doing, especially bosses and CEOs. So you’re sure Agatha can appreciate a little ‘fake it til you make it’; particularly from someone who really wants this.

————————————

You arrive infinitely early to the interview in the car you never use since everything in Downtown LA is right outside your apartment door.

The parking was the biggest hurdle but you gave yourself ample time to prepare.

The sun beats down on you as you exit your car, despite the crisp air of the early Spring morning. You shuffle down the hill to the sprawling city strip of hipster cafes, vintage thrifts, and mom ‘n pop shops. Your favorite cafe is squished between them, a true hole in the wall.

One of your favorite baristas greets you from behind the counter when you walk in. It looks like you beat the morning rush, everyone already taken to their seats, noses pressed to their laptops in concentration.

You order your favorite iced latte and wait at the bar, albeit with impatience. The barista questions your nervousness and you lean in with excitement.

“I have an interview,” you smile.

“Here?!”

“Yes, here, well — not here here, but yeah. It’s with one of the most well known artists. She’s…fascinating.”

And you gush over her for a moment, her art, her looks, the job position, while periodically checking the clock that sits behind the espresso bar, like, every five seconds.

You notice their smile grows wider as you wrap up your story, handing you your latte. But what you don’t notice is the person who just walked in, approaching the next spot in line.

“Have a great interview,” the barista dazzles in a cheeky whisper, eyes flitting to someone behind you.

Your realization hits when you turn and your latte hits her, square in the chest.

The cold liquid clashes between you two as you bump into each other, the cap coming clean off, with bits of ice clattering to the floor.

“Oh my god I am so sorry,” you babble, reaching for napkins and grabbing a fistful from who knows where.

You scramble to wipe up the mess, avoiding eye contact as Agatha steps back to examine the huge spot now staining her crisp white shirt. She can’t even get a word in before you scurry to the bathroom.

How stupid can you possibly be?

You beat yourself up in your thoughts as you gather yourself, and, clumsily, several ice cubes that managed to fall into your bra.

With a wet paper towel you clean the coffee off your front as much as you can before taking a deep breath, fixing your hair in the mirror and hoping when you step out of the bathroom, she’ll still be there waiting for you.

The bathroom door teeters and squeaks awkwardly as you push it open. You survey the cafe lobby and find Agatha opening a notebook and pulling out papers, and your resume.

You don’t think she realized you’re the one she’s supposed to interview. And you can’t even weigh what scenario would be more embarrassing.

You slide into the chair across from her, snaking your bag down to the floor and pulling out your own resume copy. You notice her blouse is completely drink-free and it catches you off guard. The coffee stains on your shirt are terribly evident despite your efforts in cleaning yourself up.

“You should’ve written your name as Caramel at the top of your resume,” she states while still looking down at the paper. Oh, of course she knows it’s you.

Looking down at yourself you realize there’s a streak of caramel syrup dripping down your cleavage.

Your eyes flick to hers, and she’s looking at you now, for the first time. There’s a long beat that clenches your throat and you forget how to speak.

You know her eyes are blue but holy shit, they’re palpably blue. And they hold yours in suspension, her gaze lingering for a moment too long before returning to her paper.

Your cheeks warm with a feverish blush, and you take a napkin to wipe the syrup away, leaving your skin sticky and shiny.

Her eyes move to your cleavage again as she shifts slightly in her seat, adjusting her stature. She scans over your resume agonizingly slow now and this long gap of silence has your nerves bubbling.

Maybe it’s a good thing the coffee spilled, because you’re sure the caffeine would give you a panic attack right about now.

“It doesn’t state in here that you use condiments as a painting medium, so, tell me your process,” Agatha jokes, but her tone is blunt.

You breathe a laugh and smile anyway, wanting to squash the awkwardness and tension so badly. Taking a second, you muster up an ounce of courage. You have to prove yourself now after this train wreck.

“I could probably use caramel as a medium,” you shrug, meeting her stark gaze again.

Agatha quirks one brow, egging you to go on.

“It’s got a similar consistency to a fast dry. Could probably even be worked into a glaze too. It could make a really nice maple color over some oils. I work with acrylics, watercolors, too, but it probably would leave paintings like that,” you take in a ragged breath, your mind catching up to just how stupid you sound, “…sticky.”

She smiles for the first time, a wicked smolder perking the corners of her lips. Amusement flares in her eyes, and you swear you can almost see them darken.

“Your skills?”

You take a deep breath before you begin, grounding yourself. “Time management, organization, I’m ambitious and work well with others. I also have really good memori –”

“You know,” she dawdles, “none of your references called me back,” she states, practically disregarding the answer to her last question.

Your mouth parts in silence.

“Oh,” is the only pathetic word you can assemble. “That’s weird,” you breathe, thoroughly fucking failing.

“I’m sure they’re all busy artists.”

And you just know she’s seeing right through you.

“But…your copywriting is very good. I’ve seen your social media, your website, you’ve got a way with words, hon.”

Your neck and chest must be as red as your face now. But the way she looks at you, blue eyes dark yet twinkling with intrigue, you’re blushing for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” you manage, and you give her a truthful look that you really need this, that you really want this. Because you just want something to go right for once in your life. You need to find your purpose again.

It’s like she can hear your thoughts as she studies you. It’s hard to look away when you meet her eyes again. As if she’s holding you in the palm of her hand, weighing you, rolling you between her fingers, testing to see if she should clench and squeeze the dream right from your heart.

“You know, I don’t normally meet with artists in this circumstance, or even in such a…sticky manner.”

And you blush for the millionth time.

“But I’d like to test your writing skills. I’m hosting a live painting session this weekend that I want you to come to and write a little mockup article for. If I dig it, you get the job, sweetheart.”

Her words drip like honey, the opportunity laid out before you, sounding sweet to your ears. It’s almost unbelievable.

“Wow, thank you so much Ms. Harkness,” you fawn, beaming a smile.

“Agatha,” she says warmly, holding out her hand for you to shake.

You hesitate for a moment before taking her hand in yours, her slender, delicate fingers just barely grazing the inside of your wrist. Something flutters in your stomach at the contact, like a chemical reaction right in your core.

The embrace is subtle, but it carries the weight of something more than just a job, more than just a task she’s asking you to complete. You tug your hand away, but the air between you stays charged.

“I won’t let you down,” you exhale earnestly.

Agatha blinks at you slowly, that smile never faltering, “good girl.”

She rises now, collecting her papers and notebook, storing them inside a black tote bag. “My assistant will be in touch.”

You absentmindedly nod to her, feeling her presence leave, with the click of the cafe door echoing in your ears. You’re completely dumbfounded. What just happened?

Did you actually manage to fake your way to the top? You have a real shot now at getting this position. And the way she looked at you, like she just knew what you were capable of?

Her request is simple, just a mockup article. Nothing truly serious. The significance of her words, though, make your heart race. The heady mix of exhilaration and nerve wracking anticipation makes you dizzy at the thought. And her praise.

Good girl.

You’re completely slack-jawed at the thought of it again. You just know you’re in for something more than just a mere task.

Whatever she wants from you, you’ll give it – willingly, completely, without question.

[writing-for-life]

Tales from the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee

A few thoughts on the supposed similarities with The Sandman—with actual comparisons (and a summary of the most important beats for those who want it)…

[This post is super long. It contains a lot of different thoughts, that’s why I broke it down into three parts: 1. General Considerations, 2. Boroson’s Claims and 3. A beat-by-beat summary of all five volumes of Tales from the Flat Earth. You might want to read this in instalments, or you might want to leave part three if you are still planning to read any of the five volumes.]

Part One: General Considerations

By now, many of you will have heard of Tanith Lee’s series “Tales from the Flat Earth”—not because the world all of a sudden woke up to a literary genius, but because of a Facebook post by Matthew Boroson in the immediate aftermath of the sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman. Boroson now made a further statement that he will “delete […] challenges so he can live”. I completely get the exhaustion of a post going viral—been there, got the T-Shirt—but why not just ignore it? Switch off notifications or comments altogether? Actively censoring only the people with different opinions, whom he even admits have mostly been engaging in good faith, because “he can’t do this 24/7”, while leaving up those in agreement (apparently he can do that 24/7)? He might not have thought through how bad this looks, and the irony of a man silencing dissenting voices and trying to control the conversation really shouldn’t be lost on people. But apparently, it is.

Anyway: I have absolutely no desire to defend Neil Gaiman. As should be clear from my blog, I stand with Gaiman’s victims and have done so since last summer when the allegations first broke. I believe those women, for both personal and professional reasons I won’t go into here. And I believe them, whether some author guy tells me I should or not. What grates on me is that this overshadows what’s actually important here, and I’ll get to why in a second.

I love Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth and have read them first in the 1990s, and quite a few times since. For that very reason, I wish people would just read her work without trying to engage in a “gotcha” that is still all about Gaiman and not her. She was a great and talented writer who deserves more than now forever being known as “the woman whom Neil Gaiman plagiarised”. And to say it quite frankly: The sexual assault allegations can stand on their own and don’t need a male writer telling us, verbatim, “I have no difficulty believing the accusations against him. Because I know — KNOW — that he has felt entitled to take what he wants from a woman, without her permission, and without any acknowledgement of her contributions.”

I can’t even begin to say how problematic this statement is, for so many reasons. So all I’ll say is:

There is a certain tone-deafness in thinking a sexual assault claim holds even more weight because a male writer says, “See, he did this, so you should also believe that.” We should believe SA victims. Full stop. We don’t need wonky plagiarism or “inspiration without credit”-claims to give them more weight. These two things shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence.

But all of that aside: Read Tanith Lee’s “Tales from the Flat Earth” because you are interested in a writer who crafted imaginative worlds in a florid prose-style that hearkens back to old fairy tales and Arabian Nights. If you only want to read it for a “gotcha”, I might be able to spare you the arduous work, although I strongly recommend you read it to come to your own conclusions (go to the source yourself. And I honestly wish more people did before they just blindly believe things). Again, spare a thought though if Tanith deserves to be “the woman NG plagiarised” to a new audience, because let’s be honest—that’s the only reason why so many people now read her works.

And that’s exactly why I thought so long and hard whether to even write this post, but there comes a point when people who actually know both works in depth need to speak up about the informational conformity bias that now has us at over 30,000 notes on Tumblr alone, all the while the person who put this into the world seems to actively censor anyone who dares to disagree. I get that Boroson’s claim is what a lot of people want to believe right now, but that doesn’t make it more true. Someone even said that “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because only the result does.” That’s an incredibly dumb and also dangerous statement, but I’ll leave it at that.

Horrible people can create good art. We don’t need to pretend they were always hacks. We have to learn to sit with that cognitive dissonance and can disassociate ourselves from the creator regardless—because he’s an abuser.

Part Two: Boroson’s Claims

With all of that out of the road, let’s have a closer look at all that Boroson alleges in his FB post; quotes are verbatim.

1. “Despite the fact that the main character — a byronic, pale, otherworldly, deity-like character - is the prince of night and dreams.”

Here, we already have the first bit of wrong information. Azhrarn is one of the Lords of Darkness. He is the Prince of Demons. He is evil-aligned. He is not a “prince of dreams”. He is “Night’s Master” because he only walks the earth at night, and sunlight is lethal (oh?) for him. He is really nothing like Dream. One is all about rules and responsibilities, the other is about inconsistency, wickedness, mischief, changing his mind on a whim and treating humans as playthings (which he repeatedly admits himself). You could build a much stronger case for similarities between Azhrarn and Lucifer/Iblis (and Loki if you wanted to go Norse) than Dream, because Azhrarn actually hates the gods, and Lee’s whole series builds very strongly on how he (and then someone else) tries to bring them down. And Azhrarn might be older than gods, but whether he is truly more powerful depends on how you look at it—he even asks them for help at some point. Dream, on the other hand, is more than the gods. They begin in his realm, and they end there when people stop believing. Because gods come from the collective unconscious—and that’s who and what Dream is.

2. “Despite the fact that every time people see art depicting Tanith Lee's main character Azhrarn, they think it's Morpheus from the Sandman.”

This is interesting since the depiction Boroson chose for his FB claim is fanart. If you claim something like this, at least use original artwork, not works that have already gone through 20 subconscious filters. If you look at original art, you get this:

Azhrarn in the middle, Uhlume (Lord Death) to the right, Chuz (Lord Madness) to the left. And in the other picture, Azrharn in his eagle form. Which is just weird, soz. But that’s why he has feathers on his garb.

Maybe there’s a fleeting similarity in the one to the left, but there’s also literally none in the one to the right. And if you have ever read any dark fantasy of the 1980s and 90s (and even earlier), pretty much the majority of male protagonists fitted the stereotype of “pale, clad in black and byronic”. It was a dark fantasy trope—goths read that stuff in droves (I was one of them). And it became even more likely if the hero/antihero/villain was somehow aligned with the underworld. Which Azhrarn is.

And since artists are always influenced by other artworks and their own mental image of a character, have an actual description of Azhrarn’s looks from “Night’s Master”:

“marvelously handsome, with hair that shone like blue-black fire, and clothed in all the magnificence of night.”

But we also get this when he makes a not so great experience:

“He gazed to east and west, to north and south, and the face of Azhrarn, it is truly said, had become white. Long he looked, and long his pallor increased. A mortal man could not grow so pale and live.”

So we can reasonably deduce that he isn’t usually as white as Morpheus in his main form (I don’t know what else to call it)?

There are many other descriptions of a similar ilk. Is this really enough to say they look the same? Really? Instead of admitting that we might be filling in some blanks here if descriptions are so vague?

3. “Despite the fact that the dream lord's younger sibling is Death.”

That one truly made me laugh out loud. Apart from the fact that Gaiman’s Death is older and female (which one could say was a purposeful switch to “hide the tracks” 🙄)—only the least read people would assume this was in any way new or sensational and “borrowed” from any one particular writer. Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death) are twin brothers in Greek mythology. And the closeness of Death and Dream in The Sandman (both conceptually and on a relational level) is much more of a mirror of that than the relationship between Azhrarn and Uhlume in Tales from the Flat Earth, because in all honesty: The latter two don’t get on that well, which Boroson conveniently forgets to mention. Their relationships are really nothing alike.

Hypnos is also a deity residing in the underworld, and you have to cross the river Lethe (forgetfulness/oblivion) to get to him. Lee borrows from that idea very heavily when she tells the story of Kazir visiting Azhrarn in Underearth. These are myths, told and retold by hundreds of writers over and over again, including Lee herself.

I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s so thin that it immediately blows away if you as much as cough at it.

4. “Despite the fact that other members of his family include Delusion, Delirium.... They are not gods but beings older than gods, and when the gods die, Dream, Death, Delusion, and Delirium will remain. This family of immortal, eternal, unchanging beings, who each embody an eternal abstraction starting with the letter D.”

There are only two Lords of Darkness beginning with a D, and they are called Uhlume (Death) and Chuz (Delusion). Azhrarn is Wickedness.

There is no Dream, as I already stated. And guess what? There is also no separate Delirium. So wrong facts again. The character is Delirium’s Mistress (or at least that’s the title of the volume), and in that case, we are referring to her as being the lover of Chuz (so Delusion and Delirium are effectively the same person). And her name is Azhriaz; she is half human, half demon (and something else, but that would be too spoilery) and Azhrarn’s daughter. She looks like this in original artwork (sorry for the crappola photo):

Without wanting to give too much plot away because some of you might still want to read this: There are three Lords of Darkness (or one could argue five—more about that later) in Lee’s Tales, but they don’t all begin with a D—neither if you look at their names (their initials are A, U, C, K and A), nor at their functions (in which case it’s W, D, D, F and L).

Okay, the domains of two Lords of Darkness start with D. Is it really enough to be sure Gaiman borrowed from it, turning it into seven? Or is it perhaps far more likely that this still falls into the realm of literary archetypes? And even if Gaiman did expand on that idea—that’s not plagiarism (which, to say it very clearly, Boroson didn’t explicitly say it was. He just implied it a bit between the lines, and other people who probably didn’t read either ran with it). I don’t think it would even constitute “heavy borrowing”, especially since the characters, their relationships and the stories as such are so, so different.

Why is Boroson’s account riddled with inaccuracies? Why be so wrong in your descriptions of a work you supposedly know so well? I really don’t know. It’s either that he doesn’t know it as well as he says he does (which I can’t imagine, since he’s apparently been going on about this for years), or he purposefully misrepresents it to add more weight to it. Which looks bad to be honest. Or at least as if he’s a bit too taken with an idea and at the stage where he can’t let it go anymore.

5. “[…] description of a character who was clearly the inspiration for Gaiman’s Mazikeen.”

That’s also Chuz. As depicted in the art above, and also here:

One side of him is young and beautiful, the other old. I’ll let you decide if this is clearly the inspiration for Mazikeen:

“So she beheld the entire aspect of his face, one half youthfully bronzed, one half haggardly gray, the rusty hair and the blond, but it seemed to her it was the most natural face she had ever looked on.”

And to say it quite frankly: Framing it like that is a bit dishonest to start with? It’s not the description of “a character”. It’s the volume’s protagonist. Whom Boroson earlier insisted was the inspiration for Delirium (also a bit wonky that one, as I already wrote, since I bet most of the people who don’t know Lee’s work pictured her Delirium as a woman after reading Boroson’s account). But now it’s Mazikeen all of a sudden? Leaving out he’s actually talking about the same character here looks like wilfully obfuscating that neither of it truly holds water, so he’s picking little bits and offers them without context.

Mazikeen is a visual creation of Kelley Jones btw, so maybe Boroson should also take it up with him? The same could be said to everyone who might feel tempted to shoehorn a certain other character (DC’s Destiny) into this, woefully forgetting that Destiny is not a character created by Gaiman. He has existed in the DC Universe years before Lee wrote Tales from the Flat Earth. I don’t hear anyone complaining that Lee stole Kheshmet/Fate from DC because it would be quite frankly idiotic—these are literary archetypes!

6. “The prose, the characters, the narrative strategies, the mythology, the story structure, all of it: Gaiman found it all in Tanith Lee's writing and never gave her any credit.”

The prose is really hard to compare because one is a novel, the other a comic. I really recommend you read both yourself so you get the full picture, but just two examples here:

Tanith Lee:

“A mile from the enameled walls of the city, where the desert lay gleaming like golden glass, a beautiful woman sat in a stone tower, and she played with a bone.

“Will he come to me today?” she asked the bone, rocking it in her arms like a child. “Or will he seek me tonight? All the stars will shine, but he will shine more brightly. For sure, he dare not come by day, for he would outshine the sun. The sun would die of shame, and the whole world grow dark. But oh, he will come. Nemdur,” said the beautiful woman, “Nemdur, my lord.”

Her name was Jasrin; Nemdur was the king whose city stood one mile to the east. Once, he had been her husband.

No longer.”

Neil Gaiman:

As someone who’s read both many times over, my personal assessment is:

They are not very alike. Lee writes floridly, Gaiman is often fairly to the point. Even in Ramadan, which is one (out of 75!) issues that closest resembles the style of Arabian Nights (which is Lee’s inspiration), his voice seems distinct to me—as is hers. Lee’s prose always struck me as great, Gaiman’s as good (I always loved his world building more than his actual writing style). I think Lee’s prose is more accomplished, but that’s personal taste.

Characters: I already expanded on it.

Narrative strategy: This is so vague. Does he mean perspective? Point of view? Other narrative strategies like foreshadowing?

Since I don’t know what exactly Boroson is referring to because he likes to keep it nebulous, I really can’t say, but I don’t think the way the stories are told are in any way alike. And where they seem similar (“Night’s Master”, as an example, is told as interconnected stories in the style of Arabian Nights with a throughline. And of course the Sandman also contains some interconnected stories with a throughline, although they are in no way reminiscent of Arabian Nights to me, bar Ramadan), I seriously have to ask again:

Do we believe only one writer utilises these strategies and/or has a monopoly on them? Because there are truly only so many of them to go around. And we could say that Lee’s “narrative strategy” is hardly unique either. This is just a bit silly.

Mythology: Just no. Both Lee and Gaiman use themes that have been there a million times before them, I already brushed on it. Both lean heavily into existing mythologies, with Gaiman more into Greek, and Lee into Near- and Middle Eastern one (especially Mesopotamian/Babylonian—there are some parallels between her characters and deities like Nergal, Sin/Nanna and Ninazu), although they both also use others. But the bottom line is: Both have expanded on long existing mythologies.

Story structure: Again, what is Boroson insinuating here? He is truly the master of vagueness.

To say it very directly: The story structure is not the same. If you look at The Sandman in its entirety, it’s a clear three act tragedy with a lot of Hero’s Journey thrown-in. The fact that it’s told in 10 arcs changes nothing about that—you can clearly make out Campbell’s stages, like Call to Adventure, Crossing the First Threshold, Belly of the Whale… you name it. This is long enough already, but look at Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, and it’s fairly obvious (and no, the hero doesn’t always have to survive).

Tales from the Flat Earth have a throughline in their five volumes, but they are connected more loosely, with the odd referential throwback. Only “Delusion’s Master” and “Delirium’s Mistress” have an ongoing narrative (of sorts). “Night’s Sorceries” always seemed like an afterthought of material Lee would have liked in volume four but couldn’t fit in. They are all told in a way that hearkens back to oral storytelling (hence Lee saying she was inspired by 1001 Nights), and there is a clear sense of an unchanging, but not personally involved storyteller/narrator all the way through who sometimes even offers commentary.

7. “Tanith Lee was far more progressive about Igbtq+ identities, and that was twenty years earlier.”

Well, for starters: Ten years earlier (“Night’s Master” was published in 1978, the first issue of The Sandman in 1988).

Is Tales from the Flat Earth truly more progressive? I’m not sure. Both were progressive for their time, simply because they wrote about LGBTQ+ characters at all and gave them a voice. And to put it in a disclaimer: I don’t apply moral purity standards to fiction, neither do I believe certain things that would be problematic in real life can’t be written about in fiction (and dare I say: I find that take worrying, for many reasons, but that’s a different discussion). But if we’re talking about “progressiveness”:

A clearly bisexual Demon Prince grooms a child to then seduce him on his 16th birthday—in a time when gay men were often still thrown into one pot with groomers and even pedophiles?

A lesbian queen who basically gets cursed to have sex with many, many men because only a pregnancy can lift that curse (!), finds out she is barren and can only conceive if she has sex with a dead guy, makes a deal with Uhlume who then brings a man back from the dead so she can be impregnated and then, via many many twists and turns, turns into [I’ll tell you later if you really want to know]?

I don’t know, but it’d probably be the same people who find certain angles of the Sandman problematic who would also bolt or get outraged at this? And they would 100% engage in the same type of revisionist readings they now apply to Gaiman’s works if they ever found out that Lee did anything wrong. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of rape, SA and questionable power dynamics in Lee’s work. But it’s also a work of fiction.

8. In the 1990s, toward the end of her life, she complained in an interview that magazines weren't buying her stories anymore.

[edit: Lee died in 2015, so Boroson’s claim the 90s were “towards the end of her life” also reads a bit weird to me—as if he’s consciously trying to appeal to the sympathy of his readers by portraying her as “the poor woman on her death bed”, when she still lived for another 20 years]

That’s a bit nebulous again. It’s amazing how some people never quote their sources. I am near certain that Boroson talks about this interview from 1998, but I stand corrected if it’s a different one:

Tanith talks about her troubles getting published, but she also says it’s a hard time for everyone right now. Plus, her bibliography also clearly indicates she still got published on the regular, and that the amount of works published in any given year didn’t really fluctuate all that much apart from a burst in the ‘70s (and “burst” refers to the difference of publishing four books instead of two per year), a dip towards the end of her life (when her output was probably affected by her illness) and then the sad thing that always happens when someone dies: Suddenly, there’s another uptick.

Someone even went through the trouble of visualising her published works in a graph:

Courtesy of Das_Mime

Does this honestly look like no one published her anymore?

Now, don’t get me wrong: Of course it is a nice gesture if those more successful put in a word for those who find themselves in a bit of dry spot. But to turn this almost into some conspiracy theory is just a bit weird if I’m honest. It’s much more likely that people are simply not on someone’s radar than that they are actively trying to hinder their career. Writing is hard. Getting published is hard, even if you already have a few published works under your belt. Ask me how I know…

These were the points Boroson made that I wanted to address directly. For those of you who want to get a feel if the story as such is actually in any way similar enough to even call it heavy borrowing, I’ll now do a summary of all major story beats for all five volumes.

Part Three: Tales from the Flat Earth Beat-by-Beat

I assume that most of my followers are familiar with The Sandman, but only a few with Tanith Lee. Hence I won’t do a summary of The Sandman, and once again: You really have to read both works yourself to understand why Boroson’s claims are so far out there. I’m more than willing to discuss and answer questions that come in good faith, but I’ll say it outright: I am not interested in engaging with anyone who just comes here to peddle conspiracy theories and platitudes like “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because…” if they haven’t even read the works in question.

Just as a quick hint, because that’s where you’ll find the superficial similarities (and that’s my phrasing it with the utmost goodwill):

If you want to compare the entirety of both works, there’s no way around reading both.

For “Night’s Master”, I’d argue you also need to read the entirety of The Sandman, because in a nutshell, it is, at least at first glance, about the heel-face-turn of its protagonist. You’ll need at least Preludes and Nocturnes and The Kindly Ones, but it makes no sense to read them separately, so…

For “Death’s Master”, maybe read The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because it is partly about a queen who wants to save her land (everything else would be too spoilery, but just so much: The similarities are fleeting at best, and that’s already generous).

For “Delusion’s Master”: Again The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because at its very core we have a love story that gets torpedoed by a traitor. But other than that, said love story is truly nothing alike.

For “Delirium’s Mistress”: Honestly, I thought long and hard about this. I really don’t know because it is so different from the Sandman that I see absolutely no parallels at all. Maybe read Brief Lives, because there is something in there about parent/child relationships. But they are hardly unique in literature, so once again: I truly don’t know how anyone could find similarities here. And The Kindly Ones would be such an immense stretch that I won’t even go there.

For “Night’s Sorceries”: There are three stories that give a bit of context to the rest. If anything, I’d say read The Wake. But that would actually be insinuating Azhriaz is Daniel, and I’m like… no, massive stretch. If it’s just about loosely connected stories that somewhat fit into a greater narrative, read “World’s End”. But if we’re thinking that’s already a similarity, I truly cry for literary analysis…

Briefly about the world we’re in: The Flat Earth basically consists of four planes: Upperearth, home of the gods; Earth (the Earth of humans before it changed shape); Underearth, home of Azhrarn, Prince of Demons and Wickedness; Innerearth, home of Uhlume, Lord Death. Azhrarn’s kingdom, Druhim Vanashta, houses three classes of demons: Vazdru (most like Azhrarn himself, beautiful and prone to change into eagles and other animals), Eshva (basically mute servants to the Vazdru who can change gender at will) and Drin (ugly, exclusively male creatures and accomplished creators of beautiful and practical things). All three demon kind frequently visit earth to tempt and create chaos.

Volume One: Night’s Master

Night’s Master begins with Azhrarn finding a dying woman and her newborn son, Sivesh, on a hillside. After her death, Azhrarn becomes captivated by the beauty of the child and takes him back to Underearth to raise him (and then promptly seduces him on his 16th birthday). Azhrarn then creates a woman called Ferazhin from a flower for Sivesh (because, you know, Azhrarn thinks it’s good sport to sample a woman. As one does). However, nothing can prevent Sivesh from longing to live on earth because he is human, and the decision to leave Azhrarn for a life in the light offends the Demon Prince. So he consciously tricks him into death by drowning (by chapter three).

The next storyline shifts to a collar (crafted by a Drin) from Ferazhin’s tears because she is inconsolable. We follow the collar around on its journey to different owners (who all meet a gruesome end in one way or another). The final owner, the blind bard Kazir, is the only one not to get corrupted by it, and we conclude the first book with his journey to Underearth to give the collar back to Azhrarn in exchange for Ferazhin, whom he loves without ever having met her. Azhrarn agrees to let Ferazhin go if Kazir can answer a particular question, which he can (not going to get too deep into that, apart from: Azhrarn is rattled, and we’ll revisit it at the end of this volume). Kazir and Ferazhin are happy for a while, but as usual, Azhrarn changes his mind, and by the end of it, Ferazhin is dead (a bit of a nod to Romeo and Juliet in there, but that just as an aside). But lo and behold, Kazir manages to bring her back after a while, and “somewhere perhaps, some dark door slammed like thunder in a city underground.”

Book Two of Night’s Master focuses on Zorayas, who survived the overthrow of her father (a king) as a newborn but suffered severe disfigurement. After the death of the monk who took care of her, she seeks revenge for being raped by a Prince and takes back her father’s kingdom with the help of the Drin. And, as usual, she meets her demise through trickery orchestrated by Azhrarn.

Book Three. Azhrarn’s cruel prank on a young married couple goes wrong, escalates and ultimately leads to humanity teetering on the brink of destruction (the remnants of the husband turn into Hatred and wipe out everything). After seeking intervention from the gods of Upperearth in vain, Azhrarn makes, for once, a sacrifice to preserve humanity’s existence. But does he do so completely selflessly? Could be argued, and I guess Kazir knew, but that’d be too much of a spoiler… Suffice it to say, Earth enters an age of innocence without the presence of hatred and wickedness. Until… 🤣

Volume Two: Death’s Master

Narasen, Queen of Merh, is sexually assaulted by the magician Issak. Feigning cooperation, she manages to kill him. Before he dies, he curses Narasen and Merh, declaring that both will become barren. The curse can only be lifted if Narasen (we have deduced at this point that she is a lesbian because she “doesn’t lie with men”) gives birth to a child, but includes a stipulation that prevents this solution: “Your reluctant womb will never quicken from the seed of living man.” After numerous attempts to conceive, Narasen, driven by her desire to save her land and people, makes a deal with Uhlume to conceive a child from a dead man. In return, Narasen agrees to spend a thousand years in Uhlume’s kingdom. Narasen is poisoned shortly after childbirth.

After Narasen is locked in her tomb with her newborn child Simmu, Uhlume arrives to claim her, leaving the child behind. However, Simmu is rescued by two passing Eshva and lives with them by night. Simmu develops Eshva abilities, like changing gender at will. Eventually, the Eshva grow tired of Simmu and leave him at a temple near Merh, where he grows up among monks and becomes friends and later lovers with a boy called Zhirem.

Simmu and Zhirem eventually become separated and somewhat turn into the tools of Azhrarn (Simmu hates Death because he remembers him coming for his mother) and Uhlume, respectively.

Meanwhile, Uhlume and Narasen don’t get on too well—Narasen sets herself up as Lady Death and constantly struggles for power. To get her off his back, Uhlume grants her permission to spend a day in Merh, where she promptly destroys her city (yeah, after all that trouble…). Upon her return, she gradually takes over the supervision of Innerearth from Uhlume and turns into “Lady Death.”

Azhrarn saves Simmu during Narasen’s attack on Merh. He instructs Simmu to obtain water from the Cistern of Life (a little throwback to volume one). His plan is to kill Uhlume, hence bringing death to an end. The well is guarded by nine virgins called the Golden Daughters—Simmu makes use of his gender-changing abilities and sneaks into each of their chambers as a woman and then takes their virginity as a man. With their virginity taken, the well cracks, and Simmu founds the City of Simmurad (populated by immortal humans) with the golden daughter Kassafeh (too long-winded to get into it all).

Zhirem has embarked on his own adventures and eventually returns to Earth as the magician Zhirek. He agrees to serve Uhlume, who plans to destroy Simmurad, perceiving it as a threat. With the guidance of Azhrarn, who has grown weary of Simmu and Simmurad (you see, Azhrarn is not very consistent and doesn’t abide by rules nor responsibilities like our boy Morpheus 😉), Uhlume lets Zhirek destroy the city by submerging it under water after re-introducing death via creating and killing an insect. Simmu seemingly dies at the hands of Zhirek, who casts him into a well of fire. Zhirek retires into solitude, and Simmu is ultimately saved by Azhrarn, who transforms him into an Eshva and erases all memories of his past.

The story concludes with Narasen effectively ruling Innerearth and giving death, while Uhlume spends most of his time on Earth, finding solace in the presence of Kassafeh.

Volume Three: Delusion’s Master

We’re starting with a tale about Jasrin, the young wife of King Nemdur of Sheve. Because she is jealous of her newborn child, she abandons him in the desert, where he gets killed by dogs. Nemdur banishes Jasrin to a tower, where her sanity gradually deteriorates. She is visited by Chuz, the Prince of Madness (the third Lord of Darkness). Inquiring about her deepest desires, Jasrin expresses her wish for her husband to share her madness. Nemdur awakens with a crazy plan to construct a towering structure that reaches Upperearth (where the gods live). Inspired by the legend of Simmu, he envisions attaining immortality. The Tower of Babyhelu, aptly named “The Gate to the Gods,” grows and grows until it becomes unstable due to its immense weight, causing it to collapse with catastrophic consequences: The fall of the entire kingdom of Sheve.

Azhrarn and a few of his demons are drawn to the commotion, and a conversation between him and Chuz reignites Azhrarn’s disdain for the gods, who had failed to assist him in “Night’s Master”.

Hundreds of years later, we meet 7,000 pilgrims on their journey across the desert to worship the gods at Bhelsheved (Sheve rebuilt). Azhrarn is incensed that his sacrifice to save humanity in “Night’s Master” is credited to the gods. Disguised as a prophet, he reveals that a Lord of Darkness (not the gods) is the true saviour of humanity. For this, he is lashed with a whip and sheds three drops of blood. Azhrarn continues with his quest to destroy Bhelsheved but is unexpectedly diverted by the beauty of a young priestess named Dunizel. Recognising Azhrarn’s true intentions, Dunizel bravely offers to sacrifice herself to appease his wrath. Azhrarn turns into a wolf and bites off her lower arm, but when she encourages him to bite again instead of showing terror, he hesitates. Reminiscing about his own sacrifice to Hatred, he changes his mind, heals her with his own blood, and falls deeply in love with her.

We then learn the story of Dunizel’s mentally disabled mother, who was held captive by the assistant of an astronomer (who was on a field trip to observe a comet passing by). After impregnating the girl, the assistant attempted to abort the child by exposing her to the comet’s energy as it passed. The girl was instead exposed to a rainbow of light captured by the astronomer’s magical engine, regained her sanity and gave birth to Dunizel, who was also affected by the comet’s light. Dunizel’s mother raised her but gradually transformed into a fire elemental and ascended into the sky. The assistant gave Dunizel to a grieving mother from a nearby village, who raised her until she was chosen to join the religious cult (like her mother, she is also part solar being).

We are panning back to the love story of Dunizel and Azhrarn. Dunizel gives birth to a daughter named Soveh, who is initially mistaken for a goddess on Earth and grows at unnatural speed. Through the workings of Chuz though, the truth about the child’s paternity is revealed, and Dunizel dies at the hands of an angry mob (she also comes into contact with one of the drops of blood Azhrarn had formerly shed in the desert). Devastated, Azhrarn takes Soveh, whom he renames Azhriaz, to Underearth. Before he departs, he addresses Chuz and declares their relationship as “un-brothers, un-cousins, and now, un-friends”. He also reveals he will go to war with him and considers it a kindness he has informed him in advance.

The story concludes with Chuz finding Jasrin, who is haunting her tower, and releasing her.

Volume Four: Delirium’s Mistress

So if you waited for this to start with all-out war between Azhrarn and Chuz, you’ll be disappointed. We meet Oloru, a court jester to tyrannical prince Lak Hezoor. Oloru convinces Lak Hezoor to take him on a sightseeing tour of Underearth. It’s not going well—Lak Hezoor is torn apart by Azhrarn’s red hounds. Oloru transforms into a “slender rod of yellow radiation, vaguely purplishly limned” and flies towards the island where young adult Azhriaz has been sleeping since her arrival in Underearth (it’s a been a few years). Oloru, who is actually Chuz in disguise, awakens her, convinces her to escape, and takes her back to Earth. And of course they become lovers.

Kheshmet (King Fate) enters the story, just like that, and in no time, Azhrarn arrives and ends his quarrel with Chuz— also just like that. But to atone, Chuz has to agree to live a mortal lifetime, disfigured, without his powers and truly mad. Azhriaz initially stays with Chuz, but he forgets who she is.

Azhriaz, now without Chuz, despairs. She visits her mother’s grave with Khesmet and decides to embrace her father’s legacy: discrediting the gods. She replaces a king who committed suicide and ascends to the status of a cruel goddess on Earth, conquering much of the world who revels in her cruelty. Her teachings to humanity are that the gods care nothing for them: “Remember, to the gods, you are nothing. To Azhriaz, the Goddess, you are only grains of dust or sand.”

Khesmet arrives to foretell a looming war with sea and sky.

And weirdly, that war starts because a god, whom Azhrarn kissed in “Night’s Master”, awakens and decides that was sacrilege, plus he’s also not pleased with Azhriaz’s activities on Earth. The gods consequently hurl three shards into the sun that transform into three angels—the Malhukim of the gods: Ebriel, Yabael and Melquar. Azhrarn holds the angels at bay while Azhriaz escapes into the ocean aboard a special fish-ship crafted by the Drin, pursued by Ebriel and Yabael. Azhrarn fights Melquar in the air and narrowly avoids incineration. Azhriaz escapes imprisonment in an underwater city when Yabael destroys it with his sword. She receives no assistance from Azhrarn because he lies in a death-like coma in Druhim Vanashta and has been usurped by the demon Hazrond. Eventually, Azhrarn recovers and reclaims his kingdom. Azhriaz is still pursued by Yabael, who conveniently undergoes a transformation and forgets his mission in the process. Then pursued by Ebriel, she travels with Dathanja (Zhirek making a reappearance) and ultimately engages in an eternal battle with the angel. Realising she’ll be otherwise stuck there forever, she convinces Ebriel to stop by revealing her plan to give up her immortality.

Ebriel departs, snd Azhriaz (who is actually called Atmeh at this point, but that’d lead too far) seeks out Kassafeh for a bargain with Uhlume (who is in the process of abdicating to Narasen) to become mortal. She reunites with Chuz, who has paid his penance, and they stay together for a while until Chuz helps her with her final transformation into a mortal woman.

Atmeh/Azhriaz approaches death after 200 years or so, and is visited by Azhrarn, who tells her, “Humanity is my plaything no longer, only a toy for those that are mine under the earth. But you, you are her child. You are hers. You are Dunizel. Not mine. Never mine. Though I made you to be my curse upon the world. Though I made you to be myself. You are Dunizel, that I loved, Dunizel who was the moon and sun together.” Azhrarn expresses his sadness over his inability to cry, and Azhriaz responds: “Each word you have spoken has been a tear.”

Volume Five: Night’s Sorceries

I wasn’t sure if I should even go into this one, because “Delirium’s Mistress” always seemed like the final volume to me to be honest, and it concluded the story for me. “Night’s Sorceries” is a collection of short stories that seem connected to “Delirium’s Mistress” and fill in some gaps (that’s why each of them has an introduction that explains where we are, and when). So I will only go into three of them (there are seven altogether):

“The Prodigal” is essentially about Narasen’s reign as Queen Death.

“Dooniveh, The Moon” is written like a fairy tale about a monk from Nannafir. He travels to the moon on a winged horse, and by the end of his adventures, we witness the wedding of the Moon Queen and the Sun King. And that’s connected how? Well, the winged horse was a gift from Hazrond (who usurped Azhrarn) to Azhriaz.

“The Daughter of the Magician,” recounts the tale of a magician who successfully resurrects the soul of Azhriaz. But the child, named Ezail, ends up being offered as a sacrifice to a monster. And that’s connected how? Well, the monster was created as the counterpart of the winged horse in “Dooniveh, The Moon.” But Ezail regains Azhriaz’ memory and lo and behold, Chuz just happens to appear in the reincarnation of a young boy named Chavir. Together, they decide to take the monster with them and embark on a life together.

The main reason I did include this volume is that it somewhat puts the former four in context. The last sentence of “Night’s Sorceries” is:

“Love is also an immortal.”

Which somewhat suggests that Azhriaz is operating on the same plane as Azhrarn, Uhlume, Chuz and Kheshmet. And we already get hints at that in the other volumes.

In “Delusion’s Master”, Azhrarn says to Dunizel that their child will be his feminine aspect. It’s just ambiguous enough, but we also get this in “Delirium’s Mistress” when Azhrarn wonders about love: “There is no such commodity. There is carnality, our plaything. There is worship, and there is obsession. Death you may perceive walking the world, and Fate, and Delusion, too, in a form that I have kindly granted him. But no man sees love, and no demon sees it.”

So while many of the stories of Tales from the Flat Earth can stand on their own, there is also an overarching theme: Establishing another power that serves to balance out the others: Wickedness, Death, Delusion, and Fate—Azhriaz’ four “sons” (cryptically mentioned in the final chapter of Delirium’s Mistress)...

[mavcancees]

compilation post of commentary youtubers talking about dream, no drummyaches edition !

note, i might not exactly like 100% of the things said in these videos BUT they ultimately redeemed dream to a very large audience

starting with i think is the most viewed video right now, Will Dream's Response Actually Fix Anything? by Lessons in Meme Culture. it's 2:40 minutes long and the point is simply to open conversation about him being able to successfully redeem himself, but it has a lovely comment section if you want to scroll through that

Dream Just Responded To Everything by AugustTheDuck, had already spoken about Dream pretty positively, lovely guy, lovely summary [ touches earpiece the main studio is telling me august actually was a dream hater but turned around recently, so noting that down ]

Dream's Response was Perfect, But... by EntLaiser, who previously made a video actually speaking negatively of Dream, completely changed his opinion and talked about how meme culture is being used to justify mass harassment, along with being nice to Dream stans and defending them

Pyrocynical made a video. its bad. don't watch it. he gets cooked in the comments though so that's okay. Acheeto also made a video but i don't like the guy so i'm not linking that either, but it was a good video

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by sensitive soci3ty. i really like this video but i especially like the comments that bring up a lot of great points, it was refreshing scrolling through them

LIES! by Omni. Omni is really big on the commentary community so his input is valued, this video is long and goes through a lot of unrelated stuff because it's a news segment, but i linked to the timestamp he talks about Dream. it is long, it is thorough, he READS THE DESCRIPTION which i haven't seen anyone do, pretty good

Dream Might Actually Be Innocent by Saverino. this guy is like, the perfect representation of "i only consumed Dream content through social media for years", the most passive onlooker in the world. and his video is awesome, he took a lot of notes, he resumed Dream's video pretty well, and i feel the way he thinks of Dream is how people will look at dream from now on

Dream Finally Responded by Dolan Dark. it's a slob but it's fucking Dolan Dark and he says he believes he's innocent so who cares W for us

other creators we already know and knew they believed Dream, Hot Sauce Beats did a live reaction and so did Nate Alyn if you'd like to go and support them

Dream's Response Was Actually Good by Saamuel. dream hater admitting he was wrong. all is good in the world

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by Optimus. don't watch this video lol. he says a bunch of stupid shit, his comments call him out for it, but i am linking it because this guy is huge on the community, a lot of people were waiting on this video on twitter, and he's very clear on saying the allegations are fake, along with shaming twitter antis for their behaviour

Dream's Response Wasn't Good Enough by luhrix specifically talks about the reaction from antis on twitter to the video and how unreasonable some expectations are when it comes to responding to allegations

Does Dream's Response Make Him Innocent? by Blissolic who VERY BRAVELY calls out coyglone ( the guy behind the dreamwastalen account ) for being a piece of shit

Dream Responded... by Repzion. excellent video no notes, less about dream himself and more a critique of how people consume serious topics as "drama" and farm engagement through it

I Was In Dream's Video by orangepeanut. it's kind of ass but he is in dream's video ! he's the "dream sucked his own dick" guy. he says sorry for baiting and actually apologises to dream which is kind of funny, and he does say dream is innocent. just noting it down for reference

Dream's Response Was GREAT! by TekuToji. another excellent video, nice summary. he did thought the poki xqc dms were real but he corrected himself on the comments lol

Dream Has Returned ( and why you should be excited ) by PurpleMatter. sweet video ! go leave a nice comment :D

this is a different one as it is a full reaction, but it is by Kenji, a VERY famous vtuber, and he was awesome about it and called out his chat several times when they spoke misinformed shit. it's very fun and i'm glad a completely different audience now has a positive view of Dream

[russetfoxfur]

mcyt is NOT beating the criminal allegations

- mumbo did season eight which. ah. produced the wonderful quote: "My parents are still alive... but that can be changed."

- cub eats people

- bad is a cannibal. this is different from eating people, according to my irl. do i want to know

- fit was on 2b2t

- wilbur blew up a country and killed a buncha people

- phil blew up that country too (apparently)

- scar. ah. scar did monopoly mountain and things went downhill from there

- dont even get me started on gem. she started the whole secret life apocalypse. she killed etho at least sixteen times. she is on tumblr which means tango is scared of her AS HE SHOULD BE

- sausage had that whole esmp s1 evil thing. classifying this as sausage because i watched an episode of gem's where he appeared and nothing else and don't actually watch esmp except through osmosis

- didnt joe hills kill a bunch of dogs in s7

- etho ALSO kills people but BADLY (scar boogie kill)

- dream

- *eyeing zedaph's chamber suspiciously* this violates AT LEAST one scientific law or something

- grian. grian my beloved. why are you like this

- jaiden decimated the environment of teyvat

- see lizzie is like her husband. unhinged. shes just bad at surviving so no one gets to see it

- jimmy is like lizzie but more popular for it

- tango is a war criminal but he also makes funny sounds while he commits crimes so i think that negates the whole crimes thing

- while we're at it. all the lifers are criminals EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ

- xisuma boils chicken and eats kiwi skin. worst offense on this list by far

- gem gets a second place on this list because why not. she deserves it

- bdubs bites ankles. probably

- martyn brought the watchers to the life smp which is bad in and of itself. also the Assigned Criminal At Life Series thing

- cherrifire gets an honorary spot on this list mostly because she SHOULD be able to bite ankles. due to aforementioned martyn

anyways please tag w other crimes our blorbos have commited. cheers <3

EDIT: I will be adding more crimes now

- keralis was a capitalist in s7 who bought. rotten flesh. for 128 diamonds. truly exemplifying a billionaire there. dont worry dont worry. hes not a capitalist anymore....but he was once

- pearl poisons people and then has her dogs bite you. reasonable

- cleo does arson. she also kills people. but she does this a lot so it also negates the crimes

- don't mess with forgelabs

- ren has become a dictator at least twice. likes bloodshed. also treebark counts for all the anguish it causes everyone. also also ACALS (assigned criminal at life series)

ALSO if anyone is going to yell at me for fit being on 2b2t. i do not watch him. he is only here because my mcyt irls go insane about him. like all the time. in fact i don't watch qsmp or dsmp but theyre popular enough i know a bit about them. <3

[n0vazsq]

Love looks pretty on you | AL4 x Reader

pairing . . . arvid lindblad x gf!reader

summary . . . Your first time visiting a race is certainly the best one, since your boyfriend wins his home race

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . girls from pin and sarahli!

alexavia yaps . . . erm not my best and its kinda short but yeah </3 opening my reqs after this (probably) so yes!! ITS SO SO SO SHORT AND SHIT IM SORRY BUT I COULDNT COME UP WITH IDEAS! NOT PROOFREAD!

yourusername

liked by arvid.lindblad, yourbsf, maxverstappen1 and 89.1K others

yourusername going to my first race weekend?! i <3 being a wag

click to view all comments

username1 IM SO HYPEDDDDDDDDD TO SEE YOU THERE

username2 y/n paddock appearance?! LETS GOOOOO

username3 SO PRETTYYYY

username4 holy fuck im going to be there too

username5 gorgeous

username6 mothered so hard THE max verstappen appeared in her likes

username7 my GOD shes stunning

username8 MAX???

username9 i cant wait to see the y/n race updates

arvid.lindblad if i win then youre coming to every race

yourusername ill get expelled from school

arvid.lindblad become homeschooled

yourusername HOMEschooled not F1PADDOCKschooled

arvid.lindblad the season is nearly over and its the SUMMER HOLIDAY

yourusername well NEXT season i'll be in school

arvid.lindblad just admit you hate me

yourusername the thing is i dont

arvid.lindblad i love youuu

yourusername love you more

username10 how does it feel to be a goddess y/n

username11 their conteractions im sobbing

username12 had me on my KNEES

username13 screaming crying throwing up

username14 im giggling at their comments

username15 i need more ASAP

username16 can arvid fight

yourusername prolly not

arvid.lindblad ???

username17 PROLLY NOT Y/N ILYYY

username18 man im itching to get love like this

username19 im never shutting about this for like another 18 centuries

username20 watch her disappear for like 2 more years just to appear in the paddock again and get arvid a win

username21 stop why is max in the likes

username22 never beating the older brother allegations

username23 MEOW

username24 whos arvid im here for y/n

username25 hes her bf and the guy in the pics

username26 some random racer idk hes not important y/n is

username27 i need to know when where shes going to be so i can attach myself to her

username28 oh to be in a relationship with her

yourbsf if only i was a wag then we'd be together

yourusername sigh i know

olivergoethe hey

yourusername fuck off

arvid.lindblad LMFAO

olivergoethe this is what i get for being nice

username29 WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF

username30 DIED. DECEASED. GONE. ROTTING.

arvid.lindblad

liked by yourusername, pepemartiofficial, yourbsf and 97.8K others

arvid.lindblad DOUBLE HOME RACE WIN!!!!!

click to view all comments

yourusername IUHDYGHJSD MY BOY!!!!! CONGRATS I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH 🤍 🫶

arvid.lindblad THANK YOU!!! I WOULDNT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THIS WITHOUT YOU 🤍 I LOVE YOU MOREE

yourusername IMPOSSIBLE 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

username31 THIS IS SO CUTE WF

username32 brbr going to hang myself

username33 MAMMA MIA IM CRYING

username34 living the dream

username35 CONGRATS

username36 sigh i wish i was her

username37 SWEDEN RAHHHHHHHH

username38 BRITIAN RAHHHHHHHHHHH

username39 INDIA RAHHHHHHHHH

username40 ARVID RAHHHHHHHHHH (i just wanted to join in)

username41 FATHERRRRR

username42 woah

username43 he ate. licked the plate clean. swallowed the table even

username44 can't wait for the next race weekend ahhhhhhhh

username45 imagine if he wins again

username46 then y/n is his good luck charm

username47 sigh i want to be as pretty as her

username48 STUNNING.

username49 they ate up everyone frrrr

username50 SPRINT AND FEATURE WIN?? THE GOAT

username51 ONGGGG

username52 FRRR

username53 the next it wag and it driver

username54 when i sleep i see them in my dreams

username55 WE NEED MORE Y/N IN THE PADDOCK FOR MORE ARVID WINS 🔥🔥🗣

username56 guys dont forget us when you become the no.1 racing couple

username57 THE SECOND PIC IM SOBBING THATS SO CUTEEEE

username58 id let him hit me with his car

username59 i'd let y/n hit me with his car

username60 mama y papa

yourusername has posted three new stories !

caption 1: HE DID IT RAHHHH // caption 2: won twice and thinks he wons the place // caption 3: love looks pretty on you 🤍 still love him sigh

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[punkishtoxtricity]

a comprehensive list of problems with lily orchards pokemon video

there is a point to where my criticisms just repeats so they’ll get different down the post

generation 1

-she claims that blue is a friendly rival when the whole point of him is that he’s a dumb kid. he’s a cocky 11 year old who thinks he’s better than you and grows to realize it’s not all about strong pokemon

-complains about length of dungeons such as lavender tower and silph co but for some reason likes rock tunnel??

-complains about other youtubers strategies for gyms that are usually meant for nuzlockes and challenge runs when she’s playing casual

-acts like she is so much better than everyone else for her strategy when it’s been done to a more extreme degree before

-acts like having butterfree on her team is some feat of strength

generation 2

-thinks silver is the worse character ever and all around a jerk

-complains about the ai of the game beating her when in reality her team just kinda. sucks

-complains about having bad pokemon and then doesn’t catch the good ones that the game literally hands to you

-straight up does not do kanto. has me thinking she just didn’t wanna fight red

generation 3

-this is the start of her being very weird about gardevoir. she calls ralts her child and then throughout the video has art of her being romantic with it which is. eugh. apparently she has incest accusations so i’m not that suprised

-calling magma and aqua the best teams of the series because “they don’t impede on the story”

-complains about the legendaries

-complains about the water routes and proceeds to throw out ideas that don’t make sense for an ocean

generation 4

-this is the start of her hacking in ralts as her starter. it’s very funny because it’s legitimately obtainable in every game she plays besides gen 5

-complains about parts of the game being too hard when she’s using ralts. which dies if it gets touched by a slight breeze

-whines about there being too much dialogue and then genuinely does not understand the story. common theme around all the story driven pokemon games

-she’s VERY annoying about the rivals. like they’re there for a reason

-the start of her acting like her calm mind strategy is the best thing ever. calls other youtubers stupid once again for their cynthia strategies. she can’t choose between gardevoir being the most broken pokemon and blaming ralts sucking on the game(the whole video is a big contrarian fest)

gen 5

oh boy. there’s a lot

-complains about there being too much story in the game and calls the game a peta reply. which is funny because peta is an american company and pokemon is japanese. (also the peta criticism of pokemon didn’t come around until AFTER black and white)

-compares a character who is a victim of abuse and has been indoctrinated by what is basically a cult to a podcast alpha male incel. looking at the allegations against her this also makes sense as to why she doesn’t like him

-whines more about there being too much reading. at this point i started believing she was straight up illiterate

-whines about the amount of rival fights and how it’s “impeding exploration” i don’t think she wants to play an actual video game she just want a pet sim

-misunderstands the whole moral of the game, being that not everything is black and white

generation 6

-complains about not being able to get gardevoirs megastone before the post game, so obviously she hacks it in.

-goes on a tangent about shiny pokemon and how their community is stupid, misunderstanding that people just do it FOR FUN

-also complains about something she calls “damage inflation” with the opponents being able to 1 shot ralts. this is all actually because ralts has god awful defenses, which she ignores.

-loses to what is one of the easiest gyms in the entire series. not really anything wrong with this i just honestly think she sucks at the game(skill issue)

-says x and y are the best games because there’s not much dialogue

gen 7

-once again spends the whole hour complaining about the amount of talking and then doesn’t analyze what the characters are actually saying. still believe she can’t read

-compares gladion to a hitler youth which is??? he’s hawaiian and light skinned but he’s still just an abused kid trying to find his way in lofe(doubt she actually read his dialogue)

-complains about team skill being “an unfunny joke” when the whole point of the team is that guzma was an abused kid who took in those in need and just formed a group of thugs

-still complains about “damage inflation” instead of actually changing her strategy or stepping out of her comfort zone pokemon wise because ralts sucks against the water trial

-goes on a tangent about how lillie should have been the main character while still choosing to mash through her dialogue

generation 8

-whines about dexit and calls dynamax the worst mechanic when it is in fact loved by vgc players

-calls milo a twunk (she doesn’t know what that means)

-a lot of the same problems of the previous gens, can’t read and doesn’t understand the story

-she’s also weird about gardevoir in this one. i think she just REALLY wants to fuck it

generation 9

-whines about dialogue some more

-literally all of the complaints at this point are the same. she can’t form an actual opinion of it bc she can’t FUCKING PAY ATTENTION TO WHAG THEYRE SAYING

overall

-she’s a racist creep to japanese folk outside of the video so hmmm

-has apparently assaulted someone so i see why she has no sympathy for the characters that are victims of abuse

-the weirdest about the pokemon and the characters. compares them to nazis a bunch

-is unfunny

anyway thanks for reading all the way through. the vid made me loose 200 brain cells and i will never stop hating

[crsssie]

crooked windows

word count: 1.5k || pt2 of sheer curtains

summary: What is there to miss if you're right there with him?

"How rare for us to be able to get a day off like this." Tim rolls down the windows to the car, sighing as you enjoy the light breeze.

"Well, we're in Spain for a reason. Might as well enjoy it." You hand him the water as you glance at the coast. "Don't forget to put sunscreen on. Don't want you burning and peeling skin."

"You're being dramatic." He huffs. "We're going to the beach house for a business meeting. It's not even a day off."

"The rest of the day is." You close your eyes to feel the wind. "We can stay back and just left the chauffeur know."

"I suppose. Did you bring beach clothes or something?"

"Maybe." You grin. "I brought you a change too. We can have dinner at the club."

"I thought you hated those."

"Not when you're dressed like a man in finance. Too bad you're not 6'5."

"Hey." Tim grumbles. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not." You huff. "You'd think all that stretching and gymnastics would go to your height, but nooo. Where did all that shit you were eating even go?"

"The stress of the two of us ignoring our soulmate bond." He grumbles. "I don't miss that awful feeling of the two of us being apart."

"Hey, you started it."

"Yeah, I did." He huffs. "Only cuz you suck, though."

You fake a look of offense, turning the other way as the rest of the ride is in silence. 

"I was kidding." Tim mumbles.

"You're the one who refused to stick around. Maybe you're just born to be a serial cheater."

"Hey—"

You roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks as Tim sighs.

"I'm sorry."

"Save it for after the business meeting."

You don't know how many people have accused you of getting the position because you were Tim's soulmate, but to be fair, it's not like you knew which son you were applying to be the secretary of. HR was in charge of all of that. You're pretty sure Tim didn't know it was you until Bruce had caught your name on a list of new recruits and told Tim to set things straight with you before he fucked up again. You're glad at least someone had a voice of reason in this entire conversation. 

You still fight though, you know, as normal people do. You wouldn't be childhood friends if the two of you didn't wrestle and tussle a little. It's only comedic when it's in the privacy of your shared vehicle. To the public, Tim has to keep up the appearance of a soulmate who nearly fucked himself over when he decided to ignore your warning. Something something soulmate propaganda something something no flaws in a system full of them, something something—

"We're here." The chauffeur nods. "Shall I come after the meeting?"

"I'll let you know in advance. We'll most likely stay a little while after." You hum. "And if I book the hotel we're meeting at, then you can come grab us tomorrow."

"Noted. Work safe."

"Drive safe." You step out of the car as Tim offers you a hand, and you smile.

You're never beating the publicity allegations.

"There's nothing after the meeting, right?"

"Mhm." You nod. "What's up?"

"Beach day sounds so good. If I remember right, this hotel has a good massage parlor too." Tim sighs. "Wine tonight?"

"Yeah, sure sounds like a night for me to be sipping on wine and not beer at a random parlor."

"Go figure. It is Spain."

"Can I get a beer in Germany next time?"

"Are you going to blow my card again?"

"Yeah." You lick your lips, grinning. "I'm blowing your card."

"That Birkin from me wasn't enough, huh?"

"No. It'd be better to give me mansions next time." You wave at the men at the table as you both step in. "Gentlemen."

"Why if it isn't the Waynes' golden secretary."

"Honored to hold that title." You have everyone settle down and Tim starts on the meeting. You've grown used to it. The men like pushing him because he's almost always younger than them, and if someone was the same age as him, then it was truly a fifty-fifty on whether or not they could hold their ground. Some like sucking up to the older men. Not everyone gets where they are because they deserve it. Most people are born lucky, you know, like Tim. You're not born lucky, but you suppose luck had a large part to play in your life. 

You let Tim take care of most of the meeting, your mind wandering off when you know he won't need you anymore, wondering if you'd get to actually relax at the beach. You'd probably end up talking to Tim the whole time and working out your problems again. Healthy communication but unhealthy habits. Maybe the two of you were just born to butt heads at all times. You still wonder if the two of you were really romantic soulmates or if the two of you just could not stay away from a toxic relationship. You know, the classic "but daddy, I love him!" moment for the both of you. God, the two of you need therapy.

"That concludes our meeting." Tim raises a brow at the men. "Any questions?"

The look he gives them indicates that he wants no questions at all. 

The men catch on enough, shaking their heads as they file out one by one.

"Please tell me we're staying here for the night."

"Just booked the suite. You wanna suntan?"

"And get burnt?"

"Bottomless brunch is too late, huh?"

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow, please. I have no meetings unless you scheduled one." Tim begs. "God knows I need it."

"Nope. We just have a dinner in the evening."

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow." 

"Yeah, yeah." You hum. "Ready to check in? Our luggage will arrive later."

"You really are abusing the privileges of being a rich man now, huh?" Tim clicks his tongue. "Did you bring my trunks?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, maybe 'cuz you hate me?"

"Tim, I don't hate you."

"I know." He mumbles. "I wonder if we could go back to how we were before sometimes."

"We're not children anymore." You follow him out, stepping into the lobby to check in, eyes focused on the way you get deja vu from the way he turns around. "Have we done this before?"

"When we were kids, once." He holds his hand out for the bag in your hand, and you comply. "We booked a hotel room overnight once because our parents were both gone. I booked the hotel and told the receptionist that we just needed a room for a night since we were all wet from the rain."

"Right, since taxis in Gotham never mean anything good." You mumble. "Do you miss it?"

"No. You're right here. Why would I?"

Tim's honesty is enough to surprise you, blinking at him like a deer in headlights as he continues walking. You wonder somedays what he got from keeping you around. You argued over everything because of the differences in the ways you've both been raised, and even if he had a visible soft spot for you in the vulnerable mornings spent tangled in each other's limbs, you wondered just why he kept you around.

"Tim."

You stop right where you are, staring at Tim as he raises a brow at you from the elevator.

"What?"

"Do you love me? Or are you doing this out of an obligation of being my soulmate?"

"We've been over this. Neither of us can love properly." He holds the elevator door open with one hand, pulling you in with a roll of his eyes. "I love you to the best that I can, though you deserve someone who can love better. You're my soulmate, and even in a world where you aren't, I'll still find you. There. Better?"

You roll your eyes.

"Timothy Jackson Drake, you suck ass at comforting people."

"Thanks, my parents were barely around."

"Did my mom not raise you better?"

"She raised both of us, and look where that got us."

You punch him, rolling your eyes as he cracks a grin.

"My mom has nothing to do with your shitty attachment issues. I came out just fine."

"We'll get through it." Tim hums. "Together."

"Awfully bold words coming from a guy who's been dating me for years and known me for even more yet refuses to pop a ring."

"A ring won't fix our arguing."

"This is arguing?"

Truly, it's not, which is exactly why the weight of the ring in Tim's back pocket feels so much heavier than it actually is. 

Not that he'd tell you. 

He'd just show you.

[asarigg]

About: Part 1

this section is meant to be for topics that I didn't include either because it didn't feel very organic with what was being talked about or... honestly I don't remember. Anyway, I hope these can also bring new ideas for you.

YEARS ALONE

Koujaku received his tattoo around the age of 15, and was at least 23 when he returned to the island, leaving a gap of around eight years that he spent completely alone, dealing with his trauma, without help. We don’t know anything about how he lived since then, what kind of contact he had with the rest of his family, because he says that he lost the contact he had with the rest of his family, when he traveled to Midorijima and the border was closed, not before. In those years he had to learn to cut hair, work on his own and gradually separate himself from his family. I always imagined that Koujaku would be homeschooled, instead of going to a normal school, since he was chosen as the heir. Maybe before that he would go to a regular school with other children. Without having a normal education he probably had to go back to studying as an adult to be able to get his degree. I mention some hcs about this later on too.

SCRAP

Observing the elements that appear in his mind, I’ve always wanted to have a bad ending that would involve the Scrap environment, it’s ideal for horror, can you blame me? When Aoba enters, he’s in a dark room, without furniture or decoration. When he goes to another room it turns out to be exactly the same as the previous one, and so on, countless more rooms until finally the appearance changes. For Koujaku being in that house felt like an endless labyrinth, all the rooms seemed equally oppressive, equally caging, hence why they all look the same. And all the doors have a dragon painted on them, wherever he looked, wherever he went, there was no escape, just another dark room, uninviting, cold, strange, disturbing, hostile, suffocating, all while some hairlike snakes chased him, demonstrating just how engraved the image of Ryuuhou is in his mind, torturing him and keeping him prisoner. The dragon painted on the doors has five claws, meaning it's an imperial dragon. The imperial dragon is supposed to represent the chinese emperor, so other dragons had four or three claws. Japanese dragons have a standard of three claws, and you can see three claws on the dragon that is on Ryuuhou's kimono. Maybe this is just meant to be Ryuuhou seeming like a regular, standard person (with a bunch of skulls around his neck uh), but in Koujaku's mind, he reveals his true form, almighty, powerful, someone way superior to him.

When the next room finally changes its appearance, Aoba finds a teenage Koujaku being tattooed, strands of hair enveloping him in a cocoon in a bed drenched with his own blood. And how ironic that the very tattoo that keeps him trapped and transforms him is made of hair.

Also, don’t you find it curious that Koujaku is reborn from a cocoon giving him a connection with butterflies and that Aoba’s dad told him about those big blue butterflies when he was a kid? Yeah… My butterfly kouao art was canon after all, they're not beating the allegations. The butterfly on the vip card of the club too…

DEVELOPMENT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. PATH TO HEALING: part 1

We talked already about Aoba and Koujaku’s relationship, symbolically, already starting long before you even get to their route. Obviously the route is a crisis in their friendship, but the feelings were already emerging long before, so it’s also a "breakup in their romantic relationship". The lack of communication and trust is what makes everything start to fall apart, and given the fact that he leaves with some women right at the beginning, it gives space to the infidelity and jealousy themes. I also have my opinions about this scene, but it’s nothing we haven’t mentioned already and they’re not things unique to them but in the entire game. I think it’s a terrible mistake that all this happens immediately after they walk through the door into PJ. They don’t give you any time to get used to the new environment, when we had Koujaku swearing his loyalty to Aoba and telling him that they would do everything they could to put an end to Toue’s cartoon villain evil plans.

I really think it would have been a good thing if they could wander the streets for a while, making you see that Koujaku is committed to this instead of making him fuck off as soon as he sees a woman, helping with the pace of the story and the feelings you should be having about them. He gives such a carefree image that it feels weird especially coming after the talk he gives to Aoba, it doesn’t feel true to himself.

And yes, it’s true that they leave crumbs, like describing his smile as forced, and that he has a strange expression when he sees the woman with the tattoo, but they are things that could be done later perfectly, and I even think it could work better, because it would leave you more disoriented, which is precisely what you should be thinking at this moment, better than a “okay man whatever”. You don’t even think about these details the first time you read it so the impression is more impactful. I don’t think Koujaku would walk away so soon, even if they ran into the girls as soon as they entered. Ryuuhou ruined his life, as well as his father, it’s not just any family problem, but a snowball of traumas that has been rolling around since his childhood. After years of working on forgetting him and stop seeking revenge, seeing a tattoo probably made by him must have felt like a kick in the balls, like seeing a ghost. He would be surprised and confused, of course, but I don’t know if he would go with them right away. His impulsiveness is important, but as an adult this is more nuanced. It’s not like one of the “provocations” he was responding to before, it’s no direct danger, it’s just a tattoo that might have been made by him, while he also has to keep appearances up next to Aoba. When faced with a personal dilemma he thinks about it a lot more, he hesitates. Maybe he needed time to process all this, to really think about what to do now that his memories are more vivid than ever.

Which btw after Koujaku sees Aoba sleeping in his bed you never see him with women (willingly lol). The ones in the beginning of his route don’t count because that’s for lore reasons :smug face:

Maybe as a result of this, Aoba would notice that his attitude after saying goodbye to those two women has changed, that he seems more quiet and serious, nervous, looking for excuses when Aoba asks him. Maybe later, when they decided to go to rest, instead of going to Glitter with Aoba, he would leave him alone and go see these women after exchanging numbers or something like that. That way, you can feel the role that Koujaku has as Aoba’s friend, and the tension and mystery are built step by step, not throwing it all at once.

Aoba not only gets angry with him when he chooses to go with those women, but rather he gets disappointed, he gets tired. Being in the critical situation they are in, in which they basically have to infiltrate “enemy territory” and overthrow the brainwashing empire of a millionaire bastard, you’d expect him to get angry way more forcefully. Of course we later learn why he does it, but at this moment the only thing that would cross his mind would be to hold it against him, grab his arm and stop him, but none of that happens.

But Aoba’s initial annoyance quickly fades, he seems rather disappointed, sad, especially when he sees them enter a nightclub. Because Koujaku has chosen to go with them instead of staying by his side, leaving him alone. Whenever he goes with these women, Aoba sees him from behind, from a distance. A cold and impersonal posture representative of the distance that is growing between them, as if he was something unattainable for him.

[moonsaver]

thoughts on sunday after 2.2? i remember playing through the quest and being FLABBERGASTED the whole time like my GOD he is not beating the yan! allegations after this one. literally so much about his philosophy and perspective on life, and everything seemed to align with that sort of mindset imo and it was just like LSKJDGLSKJDGLJSFJKD

I wanted to answer both asks because i really want an opportunity to just go full blown in on sunday right now!!

Also, YESS i know right? I want to put him in a little glass jar enclosure and shake him around a bit. He's my creature dont touch him!!

Tw: yandere, manipulation, lovebombing(?)

Okay so one thing that I majorly believe in is Sunday was actually deeply lonely, and was much more prone to loneliness than Robin ever was, especially considering the fork in the road regarding their "paths" with Harmony vs Order. I feel that Robin was generally able to get along well with the adults like an amiable kid, but Sunday only ever got along with adults being looked at like "an old soul" and was let in on far more complicated and morally messed up stuff earlier than Robin, which could explain his tendency to never share about his own troubles (as Robin mentions).

And I feel like having been bottling up these feelings for so damn long, it's honestly messed with his head. And the slightest bit of resistance from anyone supposed to be under his control is met with overwhelming "disciplinary actions".

If yan!sunday ever manages to sit down and have a quiet, long talk with his darling, it's going to be quite possibly the most frustrating talk ever. He's not wrong, but he's not completely right either. Trying to disprove him is futile – he'll bolt down each and every argument against his ideals, and honestly starts trying to embed his own ideals into you bit by bit. Like water droplets on a weathered rock. He wears down his darling over time, and it's quite possibly over for you if he decides he wants to throw in the whole "triple faced soul" hypnotising debacle. You can't hide a single thing from this man.

Of course, I don't think he'll go that far unless it's absolutely necessary. Or he has, and you just don't realise it until you're stuck deep inside of a sweet little dream. However, I feel like even if you have the complete opposite views, he's still going to let you be for the most part. He doesn't want to transform his darling – frankly speaking, that's practically changing the very person who he loved in the first place. He holds a bit of sincerety in his heart, which he constantly condemns, but still keeps; a part of him does hope his darling comes around to his views, and at least learns to adjust to them instead of vehemently resisting. He still wants to be able to maintain some level of equity/equality in your "relationship" (as long as he still has more control, of course).

In the other route as mentioned in the second ask, if darling does have similar, but not same views, Sunday is a bit disappointed, although he does suppose it's not the worst..

He's most likely going to ask you about your views, and earnestly listen and make sense of it. Sits down and quietly, patiently listens to you as you try and explain your own views, why you think he's wrong, etc.. and for a moment, you think he's actually being.. kind of sweet. Which is promptly shaken off in the next phase –

He becomes the biggest ASSHOLE.

At first he's pleasant about it; gently persuading you to consider other ideas (his, basically). Sooner that persuading turns to thinly restrained coercion, until he's in a full-blown argument with you.

He starts out with each and every point of yours, whittles it down, breaks and crumbles it apart and hands it back to you with his own, perfectly polished views. He denies, manipulates or twists every little thing you said to his own benefit, speaking in that calm, factual voice of his with pityingly warm, golden eyes that frustrate you; this is the man that's bending every word of yours to his benefit, but at the same time he has so much loneliness and earnest in his eyes you don't know what to say, whether it'll be too harsh, or not. It's a weird game of manipulation and wordplay that eventually breaks you down into hot tears, which he so gently and lovingly wipes away after taking off his gloves. Burying your head into his neck and softly whispering comforting words into your ear; I know, darling, it's hard. I'm sure it's not easy to accept, I know, dear.

It's frustrating, but it's so.. comforting and loving that you almost don't want it to stop. His hand is lovingly petting your head or rubbing your back, his voice coos at you in comfort. If you didn't know any better – you'd think he was more akin to a siren than an angel.