#why was this book ever recommended to me. why has multiple books of his been recommended to me.

[rxttenfish]

do you ever read someones writing and want to deck them in the face in real life

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

Click here for Part 2!

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[prozacwhorehouse]

cooper adams (the butcher) headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

first are just a few general ones bc I can’t really think of this man without it being nsfw🙈🙈

PLEASE go easy on me!! i have never written smut before so i hope it’s good 🙏🙏

barely proofread but readable

- probably an incredible cook. when he cooks, it comes out looking like a professionally made meal. id think it looks and tastes so perfect because he needs it to be perfect - probably throws it away if he adds so much as a grain to many of salt and starts over.

- listens to a lot of 80s music. from bon jovi and madonna to hall and oates and stevie nicks, he’ll always belt out to words in the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard in the car with the windows down, embarrassing riley and logan.

- house is always clean. bed always perfectly made, clothes neatly folded in drawers in colored order. (judging by the way we saw him fix that towel in the bathroom, everything at home needs to look perfect)

- we all know this already, but dad of the year!! fucking loves his kids. always attended riley’s tea parties, raced cars with logan.

- i can’t say that he loves his wife. he seemed more mad to get caught, more than it was his wife who sold him out and who he’d never see again. probably only still with rachel for his kids - he loves them too much and wouldn’t want to complicate their lives, which become complicated in a worse way when he’s caught.

- brings you little gifts all the time. maybe a book you’ve been talking about wanting to read, or a book he recommends to you. if you don’t know he’s the butcher, he’d bring the book to cure your boredom at work, or if you do know he’s the butcher, to keep you entertained while you’re locked in one of his houses 😕

nsfw headcannons 18+, minors dni!!

pretty much just filth

- hires hookers on the reg. like he just has an anger that he can’t show at home, so why not pay a woman to take it 😍on the other hand he’s probably killed multiple of them, couldn’t help himself

- probably wouldn’t kill you. would threaten you with the idea just to scare you, but he wouldn’t. he loves you, he needs you.

- you’re his and only his!! say hello to your new home (one of the houses he bought solely for the purpose of secretly keeping someone I mean you there)😜😜!!

- d word. you have to call him that he won’t accept anything else sorry!! he has control, like i said you belong to him

- brat!tamer through and through!!

- manhandles you he will throw you around on the bed no problem. flipping you on to your back, stomach, what not, moving you if the position you’re in isn’t quite up to his standards, he will move you with FORCE. you’re his toy and let’s be real you’re okay with that

- if youre annoying him he will grab you, throw you on the bed, hold you down, tie your wrists and ankles together, and a scarf is shoved in your mouth and tied harshly behind your head, and he’ll just leave you there. “be quiet,” he slams the door. he can hear your muffled cries from down the hall, but you were distracting him from his work so what other choice did he have than to punish you 🥴

- he’ll come back when he’s done working, could be hours later. he opens the door and you’re laying on the bed, eyes slowly falling shut above your tear streaked cheeks. he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to stroke your cheek with his thumb. your eyes flutter open, a small whimper escaping from around the scarf. “i hope you’ve learned your lesson. about distracting me while i work. now should i leave you here for, let’s say, another few hours, or are you going to be a good girl?” you sniffle and nod your head, he smiles and reaches out to pull the scarf down. he makes quick work of releasing your ties, caressing the chaffed marks left on your skin. “im sorry..” you start, your voice small. you sit on the edge of the bed and rub your wrists, refusing to look up at him - you’re almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” you hear him smooth out the bedspread behind you. “hey,” he stands in front of you now, holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. “it’s okay. but i need to be able to do my work if i want to keep us safe. you want to stay here with me, don’t you?” you nod, and he pulls you up to your feet. “there she is. let me finish up and then I’ll be in bed soon.” he kisses your forehead and you climb in bed sksjjdndbb

- aftercare is blessed! he’s sweet when he should be - he’ll spread your legs, lift them, do whatever to clean you up with a wet towel. it’s very intricate, he doesn’t miss a spot. hell come with a glass of water, which he holds to your lips for you to sip because he made your body JELLY and you really can’t move. he’ll get in bed and pull you onto his lap so you’re laying on him, legs hiked up on both sides of him. your arms are around his neck, and his hands rest comfortably on your torso. “you took your punishment so well. you’re such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper into your hair and then night night

- he is a serious dom, but there is a mommy kink in there somewhere. he just wants to be held and seen, things he never felt with his real mom. so sometimes you’ll take the reigns..he’s never been harder than when you call him your good boy 😩 and when you hold him?? stroke his hair, he is sat. the “maternal figure” tactic didn’t work on him when Lady Raven tried it, but it would work for you

- loves to hit it from behind. he likes being able to grip your waist so hard it bruises, wrap his hand around your neck to steady himself, grab a fistful of your hair to make you look back at him.

[h-sleepingirl]

Hi sleepingirl! I don't ever use tumblr so this account is totally empty, but I wanted to message anyways. I spent a lot of 2023 coming to terms with having a deeply rooted mind control fetish that's all intertwined with my experience of sex, intimacy and even a sort of weird spirituality I don't yet understand.

I really liked listening to your old podcast and honestly, some of the bits where you talked about dealing with the shame of being wired in this weird way and how it's impacted your life was so relieving to hear - I guess it's knowing that i'm not the only one like this. I felt incredibly seen! I don't understand why this is such a big thing for me but it is.... accepting it is really hard but it's been worth it for me :)

I used to talk to the small handful of people I could find online who Got It about the weird intersection of hypnosis and sexuality and spirituality (I think Spider/chelicerate was one? She said she knows you and recommended I talk to you about this, I believe, but it's been a while and I don't really remember now). This was around the time I was becoming slightly jaded with some aspects of hypnokink and trying to learn from the material that existed and seeing how many people don't seem to care about the sheer depth that there is to all this that I don't even know how to put into words. I guess... I don't know honestly It's hard to talk about this without sounding totally crazy but I remember reading some of your posts about hypnosis being magic, actually and how that's impacted some of your own understandings of spirituality and I really wanted to ask you about what that's been like because I feel like in some way I've had a tiny peek behind the same veil so to speak and it's really crazy feeling like there's nobody else who understands ;;

I definitely can relate with a lot of what you’re saying! I’m glad the podcast has been a comfort for you. There are a lot of us who are this way, although nowadays as hypnokink gets more popular I run into way more people who are not fetishists but instead just picking it up as a fun kink. Which is fine! But it’s definitely different. But if anything, hypnosis as a sex act is more socially acceptable now than it ever has been! It’s heading towards mainstream (and certainly feels that way in queer/trans spaces).

I resisted it for a long time but hypnosis is inseparable from my spirituality at this point. There is just too much overlap. The philosophy I have learned from one innately affects the other. I just wrote a piece about being a living doll at an erotic hypnosis con and I was thinking about a famous Jewish philosopher during it. This week I went to artsy Torah study and wrote a small drash/poem based on my experience being hypnotic/erotic art (not overtly). It’s all connected.

I’m Jewish, but have a lot of history in Earth-based spirituality, witchy stuff, etc that will probably never go away for me. Magical traditions (new and old ones) always seem to include trance practices, but rarely give it anything but surface level attention. And “hypnosis” tries to distance itself from that and put itself into a scientific box. The overlap is painfully obvious, but each discipline wants to deny it, and label their techniques in such a way that they can’t be used in any other context. And like you say, it all sounds crazy -- because hypnosis sounds crazy, and we live in a very rationalist world where if you talk authentically about spirituality you are labeled as crazy too. 

The thing is I don’t think there’s a good way to marry the two except to tailor both to your own views and needs. I have read books that try to make a magical framework out of hypnosis and vice versa and they feel like they are very frustrating to me. I am not comfortable with any single model or framework of esotericism/spirituality nor of hypnosis -- I need freedom to move through multiple perspectives. I am also not comfortable blindly synthesizing things that I don’t understand or learn the background of. So it’s really this big DIY journey of trying to understand what I believe about a) the world/God/etc, and b) human psyche/intimacy/relationships.

I think there’s some very obvious stuff where the two overlap -- I may have talked before about feeling some sort of indescribable divine feeling in deep hypnosis, or encountering difficult-to-explain occurrences during play. I don’t talk about that stuff mostly because it’s very personal and I have no vested interest in convincing other people this stuff is real when I don’t even fully believe it all myself. I also don't think those kinds of experiences are where the real hypnosis/spirituality overlap is. But I think that sanitizing hypnotic experiences and saying they MUST be explainable by rational means is disingenuous and limiting. I don’t think we should go around saying hypnosis is literally spirit possession or something. But we should be open to the idea that people are having experiences that feel like they defy reality, and yes you can use psychology as a model to describe that but it’s just that -- an imprecise model. This is another case where I think it’s critical to be able to hold multiple models.

Personally, for me this means I need to release the impulse to find “The Objective Truth” and instead engage in what feels like radically human experience -- hypnosis is deeply human, spirituality is deeply human. Science is human too, and I respect it, but the denial or obsessive rationalizing of subjective experience is not what I want out of my human life. I have been through a lot of spiritual models/spaces in my life and the only constant is that I feel like I am not sure -- and that’s what defines my spirituality. It’s the “not knowing” or curiosity towards the world, rather than trying to explain everything away. We know the mechanics of why the wind blows, but a gust out of nowhere still makes my hair stand on end and makes me think “Wow.” That’s actually an overlap with hypnosis: Erickson hypnotized people by telling them that they didn’t have to know anything in trance -- the opposite of our “normal” lives.

Anyways, I hope any of this is interesting to you or what you were asking about lol

[heathermooch]

TW: Adam Rosner … if you don’t feel comfortable about the topic, scroll past. But I think something does need to be said…

I found out that Adam Rosner has created a new Tumblr account. Using his full name, I’m not tagging him here. Why? I can only make assumptions. Maybe because he’s trying to rebrand his Search Engine Optimization. Maybe he’s trying to clean up his social media presence (he’s posting about diets and gardening, etc). He knows he’s already been written out of the Slenderverse history books, for good reason too.

Yes, he’s an optometrist. Adam Rosner is a doctor in optometry. I haven’t the slightest idea who the fuck would hire him. Especially in the New York City area. If you live in New York City, I would highly suggest to NOT go to his practice. Especially if you have children.

The reason I’m posting this is because I want to recommend to everyone NOT to interact with Adam Rosner. If you don’t already know, Adam is probably the most disgusting piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. He is dangerous, malicious, evil, predatory, fucked up, and a narcissist. I would not put it past him to take advantage of you. I’m begging of you, don’t think you’re immune to him.

If you don’t know, I’m sure there’s a master list of the sexual abuse accusations against Adam Rosner on Reddit or Tumblr somewhere. He has “allegedly” abused, manipulated, r@ped, and groomed multiple fans and ‘friends’ alike, adults and minors. I’m using the word “allegations” because that spoiled crybaby bitch’s rich daddy probably has legal retainer for their fuckup of a son. I’m not intentionally trying to be vague, it’s just very exhausting discussing one of the worst things that has happened to me.

I still think it’s important that the community knows about why he is cast out, because I don’t want any new fans that may have found the Slenderverse post-COVID to fall into his trap. I think it’s pretty well known, but there are a lot of minors in this fandom. And we’ve learned that hasn’t stopped him in the past. If he lied to me about it, he’s lying to everyone else in his life (professionally, especially).

Soooo…the point is…..This is not me advocating for you all to go and comment & reblog his posts letting people know about what he’s done. That would be irresponsible…we wouldn’t want to have people who don’t know him well enough to read the replies & reblogs and find out what he has done…that would be so terrible! Right? We wouldn’t want an “alleged” predator to feel uncomfortable in a safe space he doesn’t belong in. Right? We wouldn’t want to lock down the Slenderverse, that would be ridiculous, right?

Fuck Adam Rosner. I know you’re reading this right now you fucking scumbag. I know you’ll never apologize because you don’t have a shred of dignity or humanity in that empty cavern others call their soul. You’ll never know what it’s like to be loved and respected. You’re pathetic and I hate you more than anyone in this world. Others should too.

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

Everybody who follows me already knows that The Dragon Prince is my favorite TV show in the whole world. Created for Netflix by Aaron Ehasz (an alumnus of Avatar: the Last Airbender) and Justin Richmond, it's an epic fantasy series that kicks off with a trio of plucky protagonists who are determined to return an egg kidnapped from the dragon queen by a dark mage, because the kidnapping of the dragon prince (hey! the title!) puts the entire world at risk of war.

One of the fundamental themes is exploring the cycle of violence and abuse, and how that cycle can only be broken when people commit to it wholeheartedly. It also shows that, even when someone wants to break the cycle, there are others who are invested in continuing it, and peace takes incredible and painful work.

The worldbuilding is phenomenal, the character and creature design is incredible, the story is gripping, and the writing is...*chef's kiss.* Every season is better than the last, and the increase in animation quality across the years is unreal. Season six was utterly ethereal.

Phase one of the series spanned seasons one to three, and we are currently in the final stretch of arc two ("Mystery of Aaravos"), encompassing seasons four to seven. Season six just dropped, and according to the official Instagram account, it's been #1 on Netflix for the past five days! That's really great news, because they're trying really hard to get greenlit for arc three--so now is a really, really great time to get into the show! You want to do it, you want to do it so bad. Use the hashtags #TheDragonPrince, #ContinueTheSaga, and #GiveUsTheSaga if you do! Please, for the love of fuck! 😭😭😭

Currently there are six seasons of the tv show, several books (including novelizations, original comics, and art book, and in-universe guides), a tabletop roleplaying game, a board game, and a brand-new video game that launched this week. This world is huge, and it's so fun to explore!

Here's the trailer for season one of the show:

Here's a trailer for the most recent season, for those who saw the early seasons but didn't keep up:

And here's the trailer for the mobile game:

As far as why I'm recommending it as a queer show, there are so many queer characters. The show prompted some griping early on because it had a pair of tragically dead lesbian queens, but in the seasons since, they've introduced a gloriously alive lesbian battle couple who get married on-screen, a married pair of gay men, three different trans characters (one of whom joins the main cast in season 4 and remains a major character), and a general lovely air of casual queerness in a high fantasy setting. The tabletop roleplaying game has multiple canon queer characters, too, and the show's cast and crew have made it clear that they have queer people among them, they fully support queer people in the fandom, and they want to include queerness in their world. It's awesome.

(And I'm still sticking with "when one man looks at another man and says 'our baby was so cute,' that's canon enough for me." So there's some fantastic queer villainy that's, like, the perfect icing on the cake for me personally. The Dragon Prince: for all your unholy dark magic mpreg bug baby needs!)

Also, this show has my poorest, saddest, littlest, wettest meow-meow babygirl of all fucking time: Lord Viren, (former) High Mage of Katolis, the most turbo-divorced man in all existence. If you follow me, you've seen that motherfucker. You know who he is. You have seen his sad miserable little face. You know who I am and what I'm here for. This paragraph is not a surprise to you. You know.

Here's a picture of me in Viren cosplay, as both a shameless cosplay self-promo and a reiteration that, no, seriously, this is my favorite TV show ever:

Ask For a Rec | Other Media Recommendations | Support Links

[polyamzeal]

got any polyam book recs

How many time do I need to reccomend the Smart Girl's Guide To Polyamory by Dedecker Winston! I feel like I never shut up about it and still people have never heard of it! I am just going to create a quick list of all the polyam books I have read. Because when I was first learning about polyamory it felt like you were required to read certain books before you could get your polyamory license yet so many other people haven't read any books! One day I might write out longer reviews for these.

The Ethical Slut: A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships & Other Adventures by Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy- This is one of the first ever books focused on polyamory. As such it is a bit dated. Despite that I think it is still a good book that people can get a lot out of. Just keep its age in mind.

More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Ethical Polyamory by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert - When I started learning about polyamory this was the holy bible of polyamory that everyone insisted that everybody must read. I honestly liked The Ethical Slut better though. Since then though the book has been utterly condemned by the community and people are now very quick to scream how nobody should read this book because Franklin Veaux was revealed to be abusive in his relationships so now suddenly the book is a guide to teach people how to be abusive in relationships. I guess??? Eve Ricket has put out multiple statements about the book about if people should still read it or not but I am sure I will miss something if I dive into that. Like more The Ethical Slut, just keep in mind it might have some problematic aspects. But I personally think there is still some good stuff in it that people might find value in. It has been a while since I read it but I don't remember it being problematic, just a bit dry and boring.

The Smart Girl's Guide To Polyamory by Dedecker Winston - I'm skipping right to this to say this is my favorite polyamory book! It is very unfortunate that that the title isn't great. And indeed it is written to be aimed at women but honestly I found very very little in the book to feel exclusive to women and not apply to me (a cis-male) just as much. I love this book so much that I re-typed up a passage from it, had it printed on a large poster, and framed.

Sex At Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha - This is another book that used to be worshipped in polyamory circles and wholehearted reccomended. I am so glad that it is now mostly forgotten. Why? BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A POLYAMORY BOOK! This is a very scientific anti-monogamy book. So I was waiting for all this set-up to talk about why polyamory fixes all these problems of monogamy it has taken so long to explain. Spoilers! Polyamory is only briefly mentioned in the epilogue of the book in a half-hearted, "Maybe this solution works for some people". Let's be clear, this is not a bad book. It is a very good book at using scientific evidence to point out flaws with monogamy and can lead to interesting discussion. But it is not a polyamroy book and shouldn't be recommended as such.

Love's Not Color Blind: Race and Representation in Polyamorous and Other Alternative Communities by Kevin Patterson - Another great book that is highly underrated. But note this is not a Polyamory 101 book. I consider this a "next-level" polyamory book. And to be clear I am white/Caucasian and I learned so much from this book and really love it! It opened my eyes in so many ways.

The Polyamorists Next Door: Inside Multiple-Partner Relationships and Families by Elisabeth Sheff - This isn't a bad book but I also didn't really find it to be a good book either. It feels neither pro-polyamory or anti-polyamory. Just a whole lot of stories and facts. I think it might be most interesting for a monogamous person to read.

Polyamory by Marissa Blake - Worst book I have ever listened to and I am pretty sure it is plagiarized. Been meaning to do a project where I research that claim but just haven't been interested in doing so. it is utter garbage.

The Polyamory Breakup Book: Causes, Prevention, and Survival by Kathy Labriola - Another advanced level polyamory book. But I think an especially important one for everyone to read. When you date more people you have more breakups. And when "cheating" is far less of an issue it is becomes hard to understand when you should breakup.

Polysecure: Attachment, Trauma and Consensual Nonmonogamy by Jessica Fern - The new holy bible of polyamory that everybody in every polyamory group will recommend immediately. It is a good book but honestly I think it is overrated. I think it is aimed at a very certain kind of person struggling with polyamory but it didn't resonate a whole lot with me on a polyamory level. I thought Secure Attachment was very interesting but I felt the actual polyamory aspects of the book were a little lacking to me. I do recommend the book but maybe not as someone's first polyamroy book. I think there are better polyamory 101 books. To note I have not read Polywise yet, the authors sequel book that just came out. I think I have higher hopes for that one though.

Ready For Polyamory by Laura Boyle - Most recent book I read and I had wanted to write a full review but I forgot. This is a fairly good book. I feel like it doesn't stand out much from the other Polyamory 101 books but overall solid. The one place where I give it the most praise is it has the most up-to-date definitions of terms which over the years have evolved and changed over time. The spectrum of polyamory styles I think is especially important for people to read. Older books didn't mention this at all or it was only Parelle VS Kitchen Table. Now we have a much wider spectrum and I often see a common mistake for newbies is for 2 partners to be at different point of the spectrum and never acknowledging it.

Do you know of any polyamory books I missed that I should read? Please let me know!

[lybrasastar]

Hi everyone, here is a master post of witchcraft authors to avoid, as well as some reasons why. (May be edited in future.) This will continue on multiple posts to make it easier on me. Also, although some is in my own words, admittedly a lot of it isn’t, and a lot of it is the same words found in the links. I apologize, but sometimes I can’t explain it as good as other people did. 

Aidan Kelly: was a sworn to secrecy oath bound Wiccan, although there is a debate to this day with traditional Wiccan community on whether or not he did in fact break the oath. However, he published the real names and addresses of other initiates without their permission, which is a direct violation to the oath he took. For more reading: https://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/12pr8wu/why_dont_wiccans_like_aiden_kelly/?rdt=50360

Aleister Crowley: his dictum “do what thou wilt thou shall be the whole of the law“ could be misinterpreted as endorsing selfish/immoral behavior. Self identified as “the great beast 666“ and has been dubbed “the wickedness man in the world“ by the British press. Someone on my witchcraft discord server also said this “feedback on crowley! he wrote what most people consider to be *the* writings on kabbalah. the issue is that kabbalah is a jewish practice thats so closed that most jews dont even practice it. beyond that, he was also a *raging* antisemite. one of his closest friends openly and vehemently rejected his jewish heritage and crowly still called him slurs in letters to him. so his work on kabbalah is about the same amount of respectable as an oil baron writing about how to build solar panels” but to be fair, I have not seen more sources regard to this. If anybody has any, please send them.

Arundell Overman: quoting from a Reddit post “though his historical sources seem solid— he himself is a bit egotistic and has openly supported the Muskrat on social media. Well that doesn’t automatically turn me off to his occult writings as a potential source, it does speak about his personal ethics, and that is something that won’t support.” (Muskrat refers to Elon, but you’re political beliefs are none of my business. I’m just putting it here because it was recommended to me.)

Raymond Buckland: created the Seax-Wica tradition because when his wife wanted a divorce, he asked Gardner for her to be kicked out of the Gardnain tradition, which Gardner refused. makes claims that have no historical evidence, absolutely none. Told initiatory secrets of Wicca, and use the G slur against the Romani people. https://michipeachiii.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/witchcraft-authors-to-avoid/

Christian day: claimed to have given Charlie Sheen cancer for referring to him as “warlock”. Claims to have destroyed Raven G’s house and then claims to have killed Raven. Has stopped and doxxed other witches.

DJ Conway: Jason Mankey, in his article “5 Worst Witch Books Ever (Possibly)” on Patheos, critiques Conway’s Celtic Magic and Norse Magic for presenting romanticized and historically inaccurate views of Celtic and Norse traditions. He notes that these books are essentially Wicca 101 texts with superficial nods to the respective cultures. “Her book on Norse magick don’t even mention seiðr, its just neo-pagan and neo-wiccan rites with norse deities names in it. Conway is famous for her book on dragon magick, yet from what I can tell, she leaves out all the info of living traditions of dragons; people still worship dragons, dragons are still religious entities in parts of the world. I could go on and on about how her books are full of blatant misinfo and ignore the actual traditions she claims to write about. Besides the crap content of her books DJ Conway makes it very obvious that she has a deep hatred of men, she talks about trying out spells on shitty men, talks about her first marriage and how much of a “living hell” it was, and also how controlling her mother was.” https://michipeachiii.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/witchcraft-authors-to-avoid/

EA Koetting: Rips off Order of the Nines, and his information in his books are BS. He claims to be at war with Haitian Vodou Houngans on his YT (could not find specific video, it seems it was removed).

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

What do you think show!Colin’s characterization/personality is? It’s inconsistent throughout the series and I’m curious as to what I’m missing as people seem to love him and I feel like I’m missing something. He’s sweet, he likes to travel, he’s got a hero complex (that is never explained why), but he doesn’t seem all that close with his siblings and prefers traveling or seeking out Marina or Penelope

(I’m asking you because I like a lot of your other Bridgerton opinions and wanted to hear your thoughts once again)

Hii!!! First of all, my beautiful friend @dollypopup has a lot of thoughts about his character and she has largely succeeded in converting me from a Colin agnostic to a Colin appreciator. I highly recommend checking out her blog!

Ah, Colin, my neglected little cinnamon roll of failed potentials who deserved better. There were flickering moments in time that I've considered the writers of Bridgerton value him more than an attractive, unquestioningly agreeable eventual trophy for Penelope. I miss those days. I think before the showrunner changed, there were glimmers of Colin's character that would have been worthwhile to explore had they stuck to their guns and followed book orders. I think he has a lot in common with how they wrote Francesca in season 4: he's the most timid one among his brothers. He's walking earnestness and a people-pleaser. He mostly only has a bigger personality when he's among family. He has massive middle-child syndrome, which I think in parts explain the hero complex. He is possibly on the spectrum. He has difficulties deciphering social cues and despite a rich inner life, verbally he is not very eloquent, especially in a public setting. He's honest and probably not very good with money.

(Remember that adorable scene in season 1 when he sings while Frannie plays the piano? The show owes me particularly compensation for squandering that potential).

All of these make very solid foundations for a compelling character to spring from. But then, to come to these conclusions, I'll admit it takes a considerable amount of intepretive work, work that a big chunk of fandom, who prefer fast, easily-digestible content, have no interest in engaging with, and work that the sensationalism-prioritising writing discards to accomodate the short 8-episode format.

I do see where you're coming from with his character being written inconsistently. There were a lot of seeds planted in the first two seasons for his character getting thrown out of the window. Luke N did the best with what he got, and to me Colin comes off as a lost, insecure boy trying out different personalities in order to fit in. To an extent, I even sympathise with the 'Colin gives the ick' camp. There were multiple instances in season 3 where he talked to people (both men and women) about his travels that gave me major 'shallow rich boy after a gap year abroad' vibe. That being said, to pay that off with him eventually confronting his "friends" about the abysmal quality of their conversations was very nice. Such a shame he did not have enough screentime to invest in his true personality away from that scene to better drive that point home, being reduced to a secondary character in his own season. I don't remember Colin ever had any substantial conversation about his travels (which can be character-building and fulfilling) or interests after that confrontation, not one for the sake of his own character-building instead of some detail subservient to Pen's needs for validation. He should really have had at least a moment like the swing-scene between Eloise and Benedict (Colin-Francesca piano duet musings!!! I was ROBBED.)

Honestly, the problem here imo is that the writers, especially ones from season 3, just don't like Colin very much. It's pretty telling when he's the lead character with the least amount of screentime across 3 seasons. Many among the fandom echo that sentiment. His existence (among many other characters that suffer a personality lobotomy) in his own damn season is to absolve Penelope of guilt and consequences for her toxic actions. His hurt, his loss, his feelings, are secondary on the grand scheme of the show's narrative, ultimately they are obsolete and more or less an inconvenience to Penelope's HEA. The same applies to characters like Marina and Kate, and to some extent, Eloise. There are still highlights though, like his utterly distraught reaction at discovering Pen's Whistledown. And despite the ardent complaints about him refusing to share a bed with Pen on their wedding night, I'll maintain that it was one of his best moments, as he was still steadfast in his love for her but also setting clear boundaries regarding his substantial (and pretty fucking justifiable) hurt. I was so proud of him.

[o-uncle-newt]

I guess the only person who can really be trusted to describe the greatness of Agatha Christie is Dorothy L Sayers...?

A while back, the always-sharp @thesarahshay sent me an ask that caught me up on something that I'd carelessly written in some tags- I said that Agatha Christie was good at writing romance into her detective fiction, without really elaborating. I then spent multiple paragraphs attempting to elaborate, I'm not sure with how much success. Essentially, and you can click above to see for yourself, my thesis was that while Sayers was a much better literary stylist (and certainly better at writing romance) than Christie, when writing a detective novel, her seams show; Christie had a natural talent for knowing exactly what belongs in a detective story and creating and fitting all the right pieces together that create a seamless detective story, including motivations drawn by romance (though I think the actual romances are among the weaker elements- still MUCH better than those written by most of her peers, for the record).

I'd had trouble putting into words what I wanted to say (there was a convoluted metaphor about Barbies and Lego in there), and I'm not sure I was too convincing; but turns out that the person who said what I wanted to say the best was, in fact the great DLS herself.

There's a fabulous book that I 100% recommend called Taking Detective Stories Seriously, which is a compilation of about two years' worth of detective story reviews that Sayers wrote. I hadn't heard of most of the authors, and even when I had heard of the authors I'd rarely read the books, but it didn't matter, frankly. She's just such a great writer, so thoughtful and incisive and passionate about both the genre and good craftsmanship (not to mention good English), that everything she has to say including on novels that haven't been in print since the 30s is worth reading. She has generally great taste, though she has a much higher opinion of Margery Allingham than I do and doesn't like Ellery Queen's The Siamese Twin Mystery as much as I'd thought she might (though the fact that a character in it insulted Unnatural Death may not have helped lol); but she also likes, to pick two very different writers who I too enjoy, HC Bailey and Mignon G Eberhart, and so she clearly has a good eye. (It's also entertaining to see her slowly force herself to admit that she likes Perry Mason...)

BUT ANYWAY.

She has three reviews of Agatha Christie books in the volume: Murder on the Orient Express, Why Didn't They Ask Evans, and Three Act Tragedy. She reviews all of them very positively, but it's her review of Three Act Tragedy (in my opinion, funnily enough, the weakest of the three) that she really gets to the core of Christie's genius. And it's actually fitting that it's for a book of hers that's on the more meh end of the scale- because it just shows how even meh Christie has an element of genius that other authors have to work hard for even in their best works.

She says:

Some time ago this column contained the statement that Hercule Poirot was "one of the few real detectives." It was a well-sounding phrase, and I have no quarrel with it, except that I am not quite clear what it meant. What I meant to write and what I thought I had written and what I now propose to write clearly with no mistake about it was and is this: Hercule Poirot is one of the few detectives with real charm. Plenty of authors assure us that their detectives are charming, but that is quite another thing. I don't know that Mrs Christie has ever said a word about the matter. She merely puts Poirot there, with all his little oddities and weaknesses, and there he is- a really charming person. And it is true, too, that he is "real," in the sense that we never stop to enquire whether his words and actions are suited to his character; they are his character, and we accept them as we accept the words and actions of any living person because they are a part of himself. Le style c'est l'homme. Indeed, when Mrs Christie is writing at the top of her form, as she is in Three Act Tragedy, all her characters have this reality. She does not postulate a character- retired actor, West End mannequin, family retainer- and put into its mouth sentiments appropriate to its station in life. She shows us character and behavior all of a piece. However surprising or enigmatic the behavior, we believe that everything took place just as she says it did, because we believe in the reality of the people. Poirot is charming, not because anybody says so, but because is is, and all her other people exist for us in the same objective manner. This is the great gift that distinguishes the novelist from the manufacturer of plots. Mrs Christie has given us an excellent plot, a clever mystery, and an exciting story, but her chief strength lies in this power to compel belief in these characters. [emphasis mine]

Sayers then proceeds to compare another author (or rather authors, the husband and wife pair GDH and M Cole) to Christie in this regard, moving on to another review. But in these three paragraphs she has, I think, said it better than anyone- that Christie's skill is in her naturalness, and how that naturalness compels us to believe in and immerse ourselves in her world. She is effortless and seamless.

To be clear, Sayers praises a lot of people in this book, and a lot of people's writing; but mostly she is praising their skill and ability to create what they have created. Here, she isn't quite praising that- she's praising the fact that the final product is so good that you can't even see the craftsmanship behind it, and that's, I think, what separates Christie from her peers. It's a power, and not one that can be broken down by a critic. She just has it.

I've said before that I don't think Sayers had this as a mystery writer, and I think she'd probably be the first to agree with that assessment; she certainly had a seemingly effortless skill as a prose writer (as these reviews show), but as a novelist she took construction seriously and wanted us to know this. That said, another person who I don't think has this, who I mention because he's someone who a lot of people compare Christie to (often negatively), is John Dickson Carr.

I've seen plenty of people say that Carr is a more sophisticated version of Christie, not just in mystery construction but in writing style, and equally prolific, creative, and versatile. I don't agree with this on most counts, but I think, honestly, that Carr is fine- but you can see the seams easily. He might have been prolific but his formulae are visible and his writing required intentionality on his part. By which I mean- Carr when he's trying to be funny is generally hilarious. Carr when he's trying to be scary is generally spine-tingling. But Carr when he's just trying to get to the next good bit is dull and mechanical. He needs to be paying attention and making an effort in order to be good, and we notice him doing this. Christie never has this problem; even when the actual stuff she's writing isn't high quality, she's never dull. Everything feels purposeful and organic, somehow.

Obviously, all of this is fundamentally subjective, and if there's one redeeming element it's that an incredibly smart lady agrees with me (by my interpretation, at least) and says it extremely well. But I'll be holding on to this one, if nothing else.

[idiomagic]

I love books. I've been reading fantasy and science fiction for 50 years. It makes me sad to see so many people on here who haven't read anything published before the 2000s. So. Here's are a few of my recommendations for some of the finest fantasy books ever written. It's not a complete list, by any means, and I'm old and don't know how to do links, so you'll have to look for them yourselves. Trust me, friends, it's worth the effort. The Hound and the Falcon trilogy by Judith Tarr

"Alfred of St. Ruan's Abbey is a monk and a scholar, a religious man whose vocation is beyond question. But Alfred is also, without a doubt, one of the fair folk, for though he is more than seventy years old by the Abbey's records, he seems to be only a youth.

But Alfred is drawn from the haven of his monastery into his dangerous currents of politics when an ambassador from the kingdom of Rhiyana to Richard Coeur de Leon is wounded and Alfred himself is sent to complete the mission. There he encounters the Hounds of God, who believe that the fair folk have no souls, and must be purged from the Church and from the world." Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughart "When the children of his village were struck with a mysterious illness, Number Ten Ox sought a wiseman to save them. He found master Li Kao, a scholar with a slight flaw in his character. Together they set out to find the Great Root of Power, the only possible cure.

The quest led them to a host of truly memorable characters, multiple wonders, incredible adventures—and strange coincidences which were really not coincidences at all. And it involved them in an ancient crime that still perturbed the serenity of Heaven." Silverlock by John Myers Myers "Join an unlikely hero as he watches Moby-Dick sink the Pequod, dodges cannibals on Robinson Crusoe's island, raises a glass with Beowulf, and literally goes to Hell and back.

This rollicking adventure begins with a shipwreck on an island where notable characters of literature, history, and folklore coexist — Hamlet and Oedipus, Don Quixote and Doctor Faustus, Becky Sharp and Daniel Boone. From carousing with Robin Hood to crossing swords with the Green Knight and stealing a ride on Huck Finn's raft, our traveler, A. Clarence Shandon, undertakes a whirlwind tour of the classics." Nine Princes in Amber by Roger Zelazny

"Amber is the one real world, of which all others including our own Earth are but Shadows. Amber burns in Corwin's blood. Exiled on Shadow Earth for centuries, the prince is about to return to Amber to make a mad and desperate rush upon the throne.

From Arden to the Pattern deep in Castle Amber which defines the very structure of Reality, Corwin must contend with the powers of his eight immortal brothers, all Princes of Amber. " Lord Valentine's Castle by Robert Silverberg "Valentine, a wanderer who knows nothing except his name, finds himself on the fringes of a great city, and joins a troupe of jugglers.

Valentine's journey is a long one, a tour through a series of magnificent environments. Fields of predatory plants give way to impossibly wide rivers, chalk-cliffed islands and unforgiving deserts. The prose is unrelentingly dreamlike—no accident given that on Majipoor, dreams rule the minds of great and humble alike." Tam Lin by Pamela Dean "In the ancient Scottish ballad "Tam Lin," headstrong Janet defies Tam Lin to walk in her own land of Carterhaugh . . . and then must battle the Queen of Faery for possession of her lover’s body and soul. In this version of "Tam Lin," masterfully crafted by Pamela Dean, Janet is a college student, "Carterhaugh" is Carter Hall at the university where her father teaches, and Tam Lin is a boy named Thomas Lane. Set against the backdrop of the early 1970s, imbued with wit, poetry, romance, and magic, Tam Lin has become a cult classic—and once you begin reading, you’ll know why. "

[alliluyevas]

Have you ever posted about what about Mormonism first caught your interest and why its stuck as such a major interest?

I've been asked this before, but not for a while, so I'll answer again.

I've always been pretty interested in religion and religious history, I think part of this comes from growing up with a few very different religious perspectives in my extended family. I was raised Episcopalian and so was my dad, but my mom was raised Catholic and my dad's older sister and her husband are born-again evangelical Baptists. I was very much a type of kid who paid attention to and noticed stuff like this, so when I went to Catholic mass with my grandparents I would pick up on both similarities to and differences from what I was used to at the church my immediate family went to, and have questions about that. And my mom talked with me when I was still pretty young (late elementary/preteen) about why she left Catholicism and issues she had with it, and I also remember talking with her about how my aunt and uncle are creationists and what that meant and creationism versus evolution versus intelligent design and how to avoid arguments about this when we visited them. So I definitely grew up navigating having very divergent religious experiences and perspectives in my family and how to engage with people respectfully about that, and I was always curious about how different groups worship and define themselves.

I had a couple different phases as a kid where I was very interested in researching religious topics, like I got very into Ivanhoe in fifth grade and read a lot about the crusades and medieval Catholicism for a few years, and then later in middle school I first became interested in religious extremism and cults and I used to watch 19 Kids And Counting and read a lot of Time magazine special editions about Heaven's Gate and similar topics. 

I didn't really know a ton about Mormonism until I was an adult because I didn't know a lot of LDS people and I don't remember learning anything about Mormonism in my US History classes in school. When my brother and I were in elementary school, one of his best friends was a boy whose family was LDS so I had been over to his house several times and played with his sister and stuff, but I don't remember him or his parents really talking about their religion at all and I don't think I asked any questions either of them or of my parents. (Though I do remember my mom explaining that his parents didn't drink because of their religion, and I also remember reading the titles on their living room bookshelf and seeing a lot of books about Brigham Young and assuming he was my brother's friend's dad's historical blorbo essentially because my dad had multiple biographies of Abraham Lincoln and I thought it was a similar circumstance.)

About three years ago when I was living in Boston I was reading a fair bit about the Nation of Islam because a) Louis Farrakhan grew up in Roxbury where I worked and there's a main street in Roxbury named after Malcolm X, and I remember thinking that it was ironic that Farrakhan was the local but the street was named after Malcolm X and wondering if that pisses him off b) the Nation of Islam is fascinating to me in general. So I watched this Hulu documentary about the Nation of Islam and then Hulu recommended me a documentary about FLDS and I watched that too. I felt like the documentary didn't really go into enough detail about the historical context for modern Mormon fundamentalism, so I checked out the book Under the Banner of Heaven from my local library, and then I wanted to know more about early Mormon history in general, so I checked out a few more books, and then I got hooked and started ordering some of the ones the library didn't have online.

I can't entirely explain why my interest in Mormonism has stuck around, because I do tend to be very fixated on special interests and sometimes that kind of feels a little arbitrary, especially when that sort of hyperfixation intersects with and becomes genuine investment in academic scholarship (which it doesn't always for me, but here it did). I am interested in women's history in general and always have been, so I initially really found polygamy fascinating, and wanted to learn more about the dynamics of polygamous households. Specifically, the fact that early Mormons created a very controversial social order that wildly diverged from the norms of their culture, did this essentially from scratch, and were able to maintain it for roughly 3-4 generations of polygamist families despite significant external pressure and initial internal opposition is really interesting to me. I also think Mormonism is a very American religion that has also sometimes been at odds with American mainstream culture despite that and that's a very fascinating dynamic to investigate. I think I've also often been interested in attempts to create a new, utopian community or culture and the ways in which these experiments often fall short, which has been a constant in a lot of my historical interests like the American Revolution, the Soviet Union, and Mormonism as well.

[sad-boys-book-club]

"&" Ampersand - A Literary Companion: Intros & Narrators

Hey everyone!

I'm excited to dive deeper into the literary companion I created for Bastille's upcoming project “&”. As you might realize from my previous post, each song has been paired with two books that complement its themes, so I’ll be breaking down why I chose each one of those books for each song.

Let's start with our first gorgeous, chef's-kiss of a track Intros & Narrators.

David Foster Wallace - "Oblivion: Stories"

This one might be a more obvious choice, as Dan’s lyrics explicitly refer to Wallace in the pre-chorus with “David talked about the daily trenches of adult life.” For anyone who might not be familiar with David Foster Wallace, I think most of his work can be a bit intimidating—who wouldn’t feel discouraged when facing the 1,079 pages of Infinite Jest? It gives me tendinitis just to consider the endeavor! But he’s a really talented (although controversial) author and a certified name you’ll see on multiple ‘1001 books to read before you die’ kind of lists.

I first came across his writing when I was still in university (Journalism grad here), when an overly excited J02 professor claimed that Consider the Lobster had changed his outlook on post-modernist literature. At the time, I was a bit skeptical—all I’d heard were jokes about hipsters carrying copies of Infinite Jest without ever reading it—so I did some digging into who this highly regarded author was. Not to take up much of your time, dear reader, so if you’re interested in learning more about him, I recommend checking out the movie The End of the Tour, which follows David Lipsky (Jesse Eisenberg), a reporter with Rolling Stone magazine, as he interviews DFW (brilliantly played by Jason Segel) during his book tour. It’s a bit of a depressing watch though, as Wallace struggled with depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, and suicidal tendencies, which eventually ended in him ending his own life.

Anyhow, back to Bastille and some less depressing topics.

The reference in "Intro & Narrators" is a direct reference to David Foster Wallace‘s 2005 commencement speech to the graduating class at Kenyon College. The speech is long, definitely worth reading in its entirety, but if I could pick one single bit that feels the most relevant it is as follows:

“Probably the most dangerous thing about an academic education—at least in my own case—is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract argument inside my head, instead of simply paying attention to what is going on right in front of me, paying attention to what is going on inside me. As I’m sure you guys know by now, it is extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive, instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head (may be happening right now).”

The speech ended up becoming the posthumously published book This Is Water, however, I think Wallace's third and last short story collection, Oblivion: Stories (which I’m now wondering if it inspired the band’s Oblivion too), feels like a much better choice thematically and might be a better introduction to Wallace’s body of work. Just like the song, these short stories delve into the unreliable nature of our perceptions and the complex narratives we construct about our lives. Wallace's verbose, complex, convoluted style (including a bunch of words you might have to search online, at least, I did) works really well in those short stories, and is a sort of joke into the whole idea of an "unreliable narrator"—I think he’d argue that no one can be actually reliable when it comes to speaking about ourselves.

Aparna Nancherla - "Unreliable Narrator: Me, Myself, and Impostor Syndrome"

A lighter read, because life is all about finding a balance between existential musings and humor, Nancherla's book is a candid exploration of personal identity, mental health, and the ever-present impostor syndrome. Aparna Nancherla, a stand-up comedian and actress known for her roles in BoJack Horseman, Master of None and The Standups (also, for publishing a lot of essays on the New York Times), brings her unique voice to a collection of essays that tackle personal identity, mental health, and the ever-persistent specter of impostor syndrome.

Imagine a painfully timid person thrust into the limelight, grappling with a skyrocketing career and the gnawing fear that everyone will soon discover she’s a total fraud. That’s her reality, and she shares it with a raw vulnerability that is both touching and hilariously relatable. As a South Asian woman navigating the overwhelmingly white, male-centric world of comedy, Nancherla’s insights are as sharp as they are entertaining. Be warned, though, you'll laugh, yes, but you’ll mostly find yourself nodding along, recognizing some of the truths she unearths about self-doubt, mental health and the human experience.

With a background in Psychology, Nancherla doesn’t just present her experiences; she backs them up with research, adding depth to the whole thing. There’s a saying that comedy is the refuge of the chronically sad, and Nancherla embodies this paradox perfectly (as do, famously, a lot of stand-up comedians—Bo Burnham’s pandemic-inspired Netflix special Inside, immediately springs to mind). Stand-up comedy can often create the illusion that comedians are perpetually happy-go-lucky individuals, effortlessly tossing out jokes right and left in their day-to-day life. That is so far from the truth. You’ll find most of them are actually perfectionists with a capital P and little control freaks, obsessing over every word and timing to make sure their jokes land perfectly (this is not a dig at comedians, the same can be said for any other creative profession: writers picking out the perfect dialogue, actors who go method to embody a character, musicians who just can’t seem to stop tinkering with a melody…). 

Why does this book pair so well with this song, you ask? Well, both Nancherla and the song delve into the concept of being unreliable narrators of our own lives, often judging ourselves more harshly than anyone else ever could. The struggle of introverts in the public eye, the tug-of-war between creating art and performing a persona—these themes echo through Nancherla’s essays and Bastille’s lyrics. 

That's it for this one. Stay tuned as I continue to break down each song and its literary companions. I hope these pairings enhance your listening (and reading) experience.

Feel free to share your thoughts and any other book suggestions as well!

With love,

Cat

[archester-creations]

Rated: G

Pairing: archester (Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester)

Word Count: ~4k

A/N: Based off the song Footloose, instead of the movie. There is a bit of background/light child abuse

There are too many books on the list available for book reports and all of them look boring. Literally all of them. It’s like a nightmare scenario. If this wasn’t his senior year, he’d just skip the book report, but he’s already skipping classes and he does actually want to graduate. At least, he thinks he wants to. But it won’t happen if he doesn’t do this stupid book report, which finds him in the library and at the table of someone he’s seen in the library multiple times.

A few times each month Jaune’s gone to the library for one reason or another. It’s a rather good place to hide if you’re planning on skipping out of school early, since this school doesn’t actually allow off-campus lunches like his last one did. One of the pains of moving to a completely new place for his senior year, along with everything else about this town. This town has nothing fun in it. Not an arcade, no parties, not even dancing seems to be allowed. If Dennis were here, Jaune thinks she’d scream. He has no idea how his parents actually agreed to move here, except that m’man for some reason wants to teach here. As if she couldn’t pick anywhere else to be a middle school teacher. (It’s not really a fair thought, he knows, but it’s hard to be fair when he has to literally sneak away to do one of his main hobbies as well as left all of his friends behind.)

Every time Jaune’s gone, the same jock has been there. A guy who’s not just the star quarterback but also looks just like the stock quarterback character of every cartoon from the late 90s/early 00s. The fact he doesn’t seem to be a bully is a miracle, except from the way the others talk about him Jaune’s fairly certain it wasn’t always the case. He definitely doesn’t seem like the type of guy to ever be at the library. The second Jaune sits down, Cardin looks up at him. It takes a few seconds to form, but the jock gives him a confused frown.

“Which book would you recommend?” Jaune asks, sliding the list over the table without giving Cardin any opportunity to question his presence. At least, not until after Jaune speaks.

“Why would you ask me?” Cardin asks, folding his arms over his chest as he sits back in the chair.

“Because you’re always in here.”

It’s a simple enough answer, but it seems to fluster Cardin, the tips of his ears colouring.

“I’m not always here-”

“You’re always here when I come here.” Jaune shrugs, unimpeded by Cardin’s lackluster protest. “So?”

A long silence passes between them. Long enough, Jaune is sure he won’t get an answer. “The Great Gatsby.”

“The Great Gatsby?” Jaune repeats and Cardin nods. By the time Jaune returns with the recommended book in his hand, the jock is gone, but that’s okay. The bell to end lunch is just about to ring, anyway, and Jaune gets the impression Cardin’s never missed a class. After all, there are rules jocks have to follow to remain jocks. According to his sister, at least. He’s never been a jock himself.

“I’m Jaune,” Jaune says without preamble as he sits across from Cardin. The jock blinks, looking up at him. Unlike what most cartoons would tell you, Cardin’s not wearing some t-shirt or jacket or anything else that’d really scream jock. Instead, he’s wearing a plain button down, tucked into blue jeans. The most jock thing about him is perhaps his short, spiked hair and his build–stocky, a bit short, and with broad shoulders.

“And I care?” Cardin says after a long moment, looking back down at the book he’s apparently trying to read. Jaune ignores the question. He has enough siblings to be able to act like a dismissal never happened.

“What are you reading?” Jaune asks.

“Howl’s Moving Castle,” Cardin sighs when Jaune doesn’t leave after several minutes of silence.

“Like the Ghibli movie?” Jaune asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. A corner of Cardin’s lip twitches up in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment.

“Like the Ghibli movie,” Cardin agrees.

“That’s not on the list for our book report,” Jaune points out and Cardin shrugs, ducking his head back into the pages of his book. Like the idea he’s reading for fun is embarrassing for him. Maybe it is, what does Jaune know about jocks? Yes, Dennis and Phineas are jocks, but they’re his older sisters and both are quite different from the stereotypical view of a jock.

“I already did the book report,” Cardin says, so low it’s nearly a grumble.

“Already did the book report?” Jaune repeats, incredulous. Here he is, barely even a third of the way through The Great Gatsby, and Cardin’s already completely finished. “That’s not even due till next month!”

“I’m a fast reader,” Cardin says, turning a page in his book, scrunching like he wants to become one with his chair. It’s not a position Jaune would imagine the star quarterback to ever take.

“Did you get someone else to do it for you?” Jaune asks, though it’s unfair to ask such a question to someone he really doesn’t know. Something Cardin must agree with, given how flat his expression is when he looks up at Jaune.

“No,” Cardin says, clipped, before he stands to leave. As soon as Cardin is gone, Jaune drops his head to the table with a groan. The bell rings in his ears.

“Sorry about last time,” Jaune says, refraining from sitting this time. If Cardin wants to kick him out– as much as he can– Jaune’ll get it. He was pretty rude before. Though Jaune wouldn’t leave Cardin alone for too long. For some reason, he’s enjoying their brief interactions.

Cardin looks at him with an expression as flat as the one he wore when he left the other day. But he doesn’t leave again or tell Jaune to. Jaune takes that as permission. He sits down. Tilting his head to the side, he looks at the book in Cardin’s hands. It’s the same one as before, though it’s been a few days. Two to be exact.

“Is it good?” Jaune asks. Once again, it takes a while for Cardin to answer. Jaune isn’t sure if it’s because he has to think about it or if Cardin’s deciding whether or not he could simply ignore him.

“Yes.” It’s clipped, but Cardin still doesn’t leave. Jaune sits back in his chair, tilting it so only two legs are on the floor. He nearly falls because of it and Cardin glances up at him over the book when the chair slams back onto all fours. “Did no one teach you not to sit like that?”

Jaune shrugs. “I mean, they tried.”

Cardin sighs and says nothing more. When the bell rings, he stands and glances at Jaune, staying frozen for several long seconds before he nods and leaves. Jaune isn’t sure if he was saying goodbye or simply responding to one of his own thoughts. He chooses to believe it’s the first.

Over time, Jaune learns a few things about Cardin through observing him and talking to him at the library.

1) Cardin knows, and even calls, the school librarian by first name

2) Cardin is a top student

3) He doesn’t play football by choice

4) He majorly needs a break away from the expectations of other people

It’s the fourth one which has him pulling Cardin along before the bell rings, the larger boy too thrown to do anything but follow. He pulls him out of the library, out of the school, and to the student parking lot before Cardin digs in his heels. The sudden stop has Jaune jerking to his own stop.

“Wait. What are you doing?” Cardin asks, standing still but looking seconds from walking back to the building and, no doubt, to his next class.

“I think you mean what are we doing,” Jaune says with a cheeky grin. Cardin gives him a flat look, shifting his left foot, and Jaune mentally backpedals. “I’m ditching. I want you to come with me.”

“No!” Cardin tears his hand from Jaune’s hold, moving to walk away, and Jaune scrambles forward. He wraps his arms around Cardin’s to at least make his retreat more difficult, since he’s fairly certain a six foot one, 166 pound male can’t really stop a quarterback. And he’s certainly proven right when Cardin bodily drags him a few steps before stopping again with a huff.

“Fine.” Jaune internally cheers. Cardin looks back at him and the cheers deflate slightly. “Why?”

Jaune slowly releases Cardin, but keeps an eye on him. Just in case. “You look like you need it.” He shrugs. Cardin raises an eyebrow.

“I look like I need to lose my perfect attendance record?”

“Perfect-” Jaune splutters, looking at Cardin like he’s grown two heads. “Brothers. You’re shitting me, right?”

“Since kindergarten,” Cardin says, a little flat but also a lot proud. It’s so mindboggling, Jaune can’t even drudge up the strength to laugh.

“Brothers,” Jaune breathes emphatically instead. “You need help.”

Without another word, Jaune pushes and pulls Cardin to his car. Cardin might be a quarterback, but he is the middle of eight. Cardin stumbles along, protests dying before they’re even at the car, though they start up again once Jaune has the door open for him.

“What about football practice?” Cardin asks and Jaune just gestures at the door.

“You’ll make the next one. Now c’mon,” Jaune says with a smile. “Live a little.”

“I live,” Cardin says with a scowl and Jaune chuckles despite it, predictably, making the scowl darken.

“Do you?” Jaune asks, eyebrows raised and a single corner of his mouth quirked up. “Between practice, studying, and stealing time in the library during lunch to read what you actually want, do you live?”

Expression darkening, Cardin gets in the car. Jaune rounds it, sliding into the driver’s seat. Honestly, he feels a little bad for saying it now, but Jaune knows he’s right. Whatever Cardin’s doing isn’t quite living. Not like he could be.

Cardin is quiet throughout the drive, but that’s okay. Jaune’s plenty loud enough for the both of them, singing along to the radio as it plays and tapping the steering wheel. He takes them to a park he found, with green grass and trees surrounding it with a white gazebo in a corner. It’s a park Jaune’s never seen anyone else at, but this town has seemed quiet since his parents moved him here. He parks his car in the small parking lot, unbuckling his seatbelt, and gets out. He pauses when he realizes Cardin isn’t following.

“Cardin?” Jaune asks, looking back into his car. Cardin looks at him from inside, his arms crossed and still wearing his seatbelt.

“Why have you brought me here?” Cardin asks.

“I figured I’d take you dancing for our first date,” Jaune says, a little teasing, hoping to get him to loosen up.

Cardin reddens, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “Dancing?”

“Yeah,” Jaune says, feeling something like triumph getting Cardin to blush, though it wasn’t the intent of his teasing. “There’s a gazebo here. Come on, we’ll reenact Sixteen Going on Seventeen from the Sound of Music.”

This time, Cardin scoffs, but he unbuckles his seatbelt at least. “Neither of us are sixteen.”

“Maybe I skipped a grade,” Jaune says with a smile, walking past the trees to the gazebo beyond with Cardin following behind. There’s a snort, and Jaune looks back to see a thin smile on Cardin’s face.

“I’d sooner believe you were held back,” Cardin says and Jaune gasps, pretending to be offended.

“Good sir! I’ll have you know my twin hacks in and makes sure we both have straight As.” At that, Cardin laughs, and Jaune feels his heart do a funny flippy thing. Once they are close enough to the gazebo, Jaune takes Cardin’s hand. Cardin looks at him, a little wide eyed, and Jaune grins as he leads him inside. “I am sixteen, going on seventeen-”

Cardin laughs like it catches him off guard, simply holding on as Jaune jumps up onto the wooden bench. The gazebo is a simple, open thing. The boards are dirty, some of them cracked by age and weather. It’s a shame, Jaune thinks sometimes, that no one goes here. But right now he’s rather glad for it, as he makes Cardin spin him around just like the scene from the movie, watching Cardin’s unguarded smile the entire time. Not once does Jaune tease him when he realizes he didn’t have to direct Cardin even once.

It’s not the last time Jaune takes Cardin to the gazebo. After school and practice, Jaune will drag Cardin to dance or to simply sit and enjoy the park. They walk, too, through the long winding trails. There are other places Jaune takes him as well; long abandoned buildings and mostly-empty parking lots and, once, an amusement park two hours away where no one would know their names. Sometimes Jaune even asks Cardin to skip the rest of school and practice again and while Cardin protests, he never fails to pack his school bag and follow.

Cardin returns home late. His father is waiting up for him, sitting on one of the dining chairs like this is a tv show and part of Cardin is nearly surprised he didn’t have a lamp off to dramatically turn on once Cardin tried to sneak into the house. Instead he simply looks at Cardin, leaning back in the chair with a single elbow on the table, and watches as Cardin closes the door behind him.

“You missed practice,” his father says, edging in a surprising move. Normally, his father isn’t one to mince words. Cardin nods. “You realize your playing around will ruin your sports career, correct? You’re lucky I’ve been letting you get away with it so far. Or do you think, now that you’re eighteen, your actions no longer have consequences?”

“No sir,” Cardin says.

“So tell me what’s so important you’ve been missing practice,” his father says, looking at him with hard eyes.

It’s an order, Cardin knows, and he can feel his insides stifle. But he doesn’t look away. “I was helping a friend with a project, sir,” Cardin says.

His father hums, looking him over. If he was a coach like any of the others, Cardin might be worried about him knowing it’s a lie just from knowing the homework their teachers assign. But his father has never cared about his schoolwork past making sure he passes with high grades. Past making sure he’s perfect in everything. The assignment doesn’t matter— the grade does. “And is it going well?”

“It’ll earn an A,” Cardin assures and his father nods.

“Don’t miss any more practices. You know how to juggle your workload. I won’t be so lenient next time,” his father says, standing up from the chair and looking down at him.

“Yes, sir,” Cardin says. His father leaves without another word, and only then does Cardin breathe.

Though Jaune’s never cared much for sports past whatever Dennis and Phineas are playing, he’s started coming to the Beacon football games to watch Cardin since befriending him. He doesn’t understand a singular thing about it past it being a good thing for the ball to reach the endzone, but he likes watching the marching band perform during halftime and he makes sure he cheers the loudest for Cardin. It’s honestly surprisingly fun in that way being in a crowd full of excited people always is.

One night after a game, Jaune is surprised to have Cardin pulling him away, still sweaty from running around. Despite their friendship, they don’t really interact at school outside the walls of the library. It’s not like they’ve ever talked about or planned to hide their friendship, but none of their classes are the same and Jaune leaves as soon as the final bell rings. If he even bothers to be there for it. (He was not lying when he mentioned about Marion keeping their attendance up.) And Jaune’s not blind. He does know he doesn’t really fit in with the other members of this town. Of this school. So maybe, in a way, he is hiding his friendship with Cardin. Maybe they both are.

Cardin is gripping his hand, and Jaune can feel how warm it is from playing and the gloves Cardin wore, and he wonders if his hand feels cold in Cardin’s. It’s a chilly night, after all. But Cardin doesn’t pull away, only hitches his bag higher on his shoulder and pulls Jaune toward the parking lot. Jaune laughs when he realizes Cardin’s taking him to his own car.

“Can you not drive?” Jaune asks, amused, only now realizing they’ve always taken his car. Cardin huffs as he throws his bag into the backseat and climbs in. The town is so skin-crawlingly perfect Jaune hasn’t bothered to lock the doors once.

“Just get in the car, Arc,” Cardin says, looking at Jaune flatly before closing the door. Jaune laughs, rounding the front to slide into the driver’s seat.

“So where are we going?” Jaune asks, buckling up.

“You’ll see,” Cardin says, cryptically, despite Jaune being the driver. Raising an eyebrow, Jaune shrugs, and lets Cardin guide him where he wants to. He drives through the small town, down a road paved between trees with multiple turns, and down a dirt path with Cardin as navigator. Finally, Cardin says “we’re here” and Jaune stops the car at a place he’s never been. Through the windshield, he can see a hill covered in grass with a tree at the top. It’s dark out here; the grass is more of an impression than a visible thing, and the tree is a shadow in the distance. Cardin is already getting out of the car and Jaune shakes his head, unbuckling his own seat belt. He doesn’t question it when Cardin grabs his bag, only follows him up the hill. The grass is slightly damp, the night dew clinging to it already and transferring to Jaune’s pants as they walk. When Jaune briefly glanced at his dashboard during the drive, it read 10:35. Jaune considers checking his phone, seeing how close it is to 11 or if they’ve already passed the hour, but decides against it and simply stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans instead. The night has already grown chillier, his breath fogging slightly in the air.

“So why are we here?” Jaune asks and Cardin repeats, “You’ll see.”

Jaune sighs, but stays out of the way as Cardin sets down the bag and begins to dig through it. At first, when Jaune saw him carrying it, he’d assumed it just held his uniform, pads, and the gloves he wears when he plays. But Cardin pulls tightly folded blankets– Jaune recognizes it absently as a military fold– and a thermos out, setting them down before zipping his now less bulky bag up and dropping it in the grass. Jaune watches as Cardin walks closer to the tree, unfurling first one than the other blanket, snapping them in the air and lying them one on top of the other in the grass just out from under the tree’s branches. A third one is added in a slightly more careless fashion, simply unfolded and thrown on top before Cardin sets the thermos down in the middle of the blanket. Jaune watches it all with silent intrigue, then Cardin turns to him and gestures for Jaune to lie down.

The second Jaune does, he thinks he understands. His breath catches as he sees a view he’s only ever seen on postcards and in textbooks. The stars are beautiful out here. He looks up and sees a tapestry. Sees more constellations than he ever has, being raised previously in a place with enough light pollution to choke the darkness. But here, there’s none of that. Here can’t even be considered dark, except for the fact that it is dark, dark enough he could only vaguely see the grass as they walked up the hill. But one look at the sky and he wonders what true darkness really is. Because the world is darker than he’s ever seen it, yet the sky is brighter than he’s ever seen it. He looks next to himself and sees Cardin silhouetted in the darkness with his head pillowed on his hands and eyes lit up with stars in a way which turns the indigo more purple than Jaune’s seen it before.

Looking back up, Jaune says, “It’s beautiful,” and he doesn’t quite know which view he means.

“I know,” Cardin says quietly and for a second, Jaune’s not sure if Cardin’s talking about the sky, either.

“How did you find this?” Jaune asks and when he looks over again, Cardin’s looking up at the sky so only the jut of his nose and the corner of one of his eyes is visible. From here, Cardin’s nose seems crooked, like it’d been broken before and healed slightly wrong.

“My ma used to bring me here, when I was a kid,” Cardin says quietly, unlacing his fingers so he can reach up and trace pictures Jaune doesn’t know into the sky. “She’d tell me stories about the different constellations, and sometimes about the couple who told her them.”

“Were they sad stories?” Jaune asks, because there’s something melancholic in Cardin’s voice. Something he can’t quite pick out.

“Sometimes,” Cardin says. “Sometimes they seemed sad even when they weren’t.”

Jaune listens as Cardin tells him stories, hands moving with his words, and thinks he understands.

It’s not the last time Cardin takes Jaune to the hill. After games, Cardin will ask Jaune in his own way to drive them there where they watch the slow movement of the stars. They dance, too, sometimes, below the constellations Cardin names for him. It’s peaceful. Not in the white picket fence picturesque way the town has, but in the real way Jaune remembers from before his family moved here.

“Come with me.”

Cardin blinks at him, eyes wide with surprise. Jaune’s surprised himself with the request, not expecting the words to come out of his own mouth. “What?”

“I want you to come with me,” Jaune repeats, now with intent. Even if the words surprised him, he wants it more than anything. It’s a lot to ask of Cardin, he knows it is, but Jaune would regret not asking more. “You don’t have to stay here. Leave with me after graduation.”

And Cardin stares at him like he has something in his throat, mouth partly open but no sound leaving.

Cardin knows he can’t. His father would kill him for leaving, for giving up the dream his father always wanted for him. All Cardin was supposed to do was get good grades, stay clean, graduate high school and college, and play football professionally. He wasn’t supposed to play hooky, skip practice, and fall in love with a boy. He certainly wasn’t supposed to run away with him, just because he asks.

But Cardin never wanted the plan his father outlined, and he did do all those things he wasn’t supposed to. Things which made him feel more alive than anything in this small town ever did.

“Yes.”

Jaune beams at him, takes his hand, and Cardin follows.

[edgybutnotveryedgy]

My Very Unhinged Lila Theory Part 1/3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Lila isn’t a good liar. From the beginning she has told lies that a even a fifth grader would never take at face value. Let alone adults. Yet she has so many people who believe these lies to the point that she has multiple women convinced that they are all her mom. She is enrolled at multiple schools. She has a secret lair in the Paris catacombs. She has been caught in her lies multiple times even, yet it wasn’t until Confrontation that she was caught in any of these lies. 

The easy thing to do is to say that this is just lazy writing or plot convenience or something, but I don’t like that answer. It’s boring and lazy and I like to have fun. That being said, I think to begin with the real question we should be asking is: why do people blindly believe Lila? 

Knowing what we know about Lila as of season 5, I think that it is worthwhile to look back on her former appearances. Going through former episodes, I have come to the ultimate conclusion, I don’t think that Lila is just a good liar, even in universe. I believe she is using some sort of power or magic to make people believe anything she says. 

To begin with, I would like to address the following. There are canonically other forms of magic and superpowers in the Miraculous universe. Obviously we have the Kwami, but on multiple occasions Plagg mentions other kinds of magic. In Origins Part 1, Adrien, after putting on his ring, says “No way! Like the Genie in the Lamp!” followed by Plagg saying “I met him once. So he grants wishes. Big deal. I’m way more personable!” There’s also mention of Dragons a few times in the series, as well as United HeroeZ showcases many different heroes and villains who have abilities of their own. There’s also The Legend of Ladydragon with the Renlings, who are similar to Kwami, but still are not Kwami. 

Furthermore, Miraculous is a part of a shared universe. Any show that goes under the Zag Heroez brand is a part of the shared universe. This includes Zak Storm, Power Players, and Ghostforce. Obviously Ghostforce has its ghosts as its main supernatural element. Power Players has a life giving magic called minergy that brings inanimate objects like toys to life. Zak Storm has aliens, witches, ancient gods, Atlanteans, time travel shenanigans, magic wizard aliens, star people, magic guardians, and skeletons. And that’s just scratching the surface. (seriously please watch zak storm. It is so underrated and needs more eyes on it.) These are just the shows that have aired. There are more shows that have been stuck in production hell, like Fairyon, Pixiegirl, and others that all have other magical elements. Bottom line is that a character in Miraculous having powers that aren’t connected to Kwami’s is not unreasonable, and in fact would add a lot world building wise. 

To begin with, I want to note some specific quotes from episodes involving Lila that I believe suggest her having some sort of abilities. I recommend that any readers should go rewatch the episodes themselves. In this post I’ll just be covering episodes in season’s 1 and 2. So lets begin!

Volpina 

When Marinette first gets to school she hears everyone fawning over the new girl Lila. Here is her dialogue

[Shortly after watching Lila drag away a clearly uncomfortable Adrien.] [Marinette is panicking because she thinks Lila is going to seduce Adrien and then he'll never love her.]

Marinette: *gasp* "where are they going? Alya! We've gotta stop them."

Alya: "You need to chill out Marinette. My Ladyblog has the highest number of hits ever after that Lila interview!"

Marinette: "what's going on? I mean has this Lila girl hypnotized everyone or something?"

Tiki: "You wouldn't be a little jealous, Marinette?"

Marinette: "huh? Me? Jealous? No way!"

[Marinette proceeds to run after Adrien and Lila]

...

While Marinette is spying on Adrien and Lila, Adrien is looking at the book he stole from his dad. Lila comes over talking about doing history homework with Adrien.

Lila looks smitten with Adrien. 

Her eyes look down and she notices the book Adrien has, then she immediately looks shocked.

Lila: "What's that?"

She pulls the book over to herself to look at it while Adrien starts to panic.

Adrien: "uh.. Nothing! Just stories about superheroes." (Smooth save bro)

Lila puts her hand on Adrien’s hand.

Lila: "I love super heroes!" (It feels like she's specifically trying to form a character that she thinks Adrien will like)

Lila turns the page and it shows Ladybug.

Lila: "Ladybug?" (She seems genuinely excited when she sees this.)

Adrien: "She's amazing!" (He's so smitten)

Lila suddenly has a jealous look. She puts the book down and moves herself and her chair over closer to Adrien.

Lila: "A girl doesn't need to wear a costume to be amazing, you know."

Adrien panicking autistically: "uhh, i don't know? I mean i-"

Lila: "so! You've got a little soft spot for the bug huh?"

Adrien: "me? Oh no. Not at all!"

Lila: "You know, I actually happen to be very close friends with ladybug." 

Adrien: "Really?"

Lila: "We can chat about it if you want! Not here though. Why don't we meet at the park after school, and I'll tell you everything."

Adrien suddenly has to go to fencing practice, and he drops his bag. Meanwhile the book falls out, and Lila slips it away with her shoe. Before giving Adrien back his bag.

Why is she so obsessed with getting Adrien to like her?

Heroes Day Part One

Lila has apparently convinced her mom, the ambassador Ms. Rossi, that school has been closed down and isn't reopened due to akuma attacks, as well as apparently she has convinced her mom that ladybug is useless and unable to save anyone. Like... Doesn't her mom watch the news? Or go outside? She's an ambassador. There has to be more to this than just Lila being a good liar. Especially to her own "mother."

While in her room looking over the heroes day footage

Lila: "Liar! Traitor! Coward!"

Gabriel comes up on the screen to announce his contribution to the parade as well as to denounce Volpina.

Gabi: "in honor of the wonderful Ladybug who has saved my son Adrien and myself, and who relentlessly protects all of us every day. I have financed this tribute to Ladybug, because Ladybug is the only true hero unlike her mediocre imitations, such as Volpina."

As soon as Gabriel comes on screen Lila goes quiet and is suddenly very interested to know what gabe has to say. I just think this is interesting. 

After hearing what Gabriel says about Volpina, Lila gasps and looks upset. She then proceeds to throw her laptop against the wall, then dramatically yell

Lila: "I HATE YOU LADYBUG!"

Next the scene cuts to Gabi doing his Hawkmoth thing. He sends an akuma out to Lila. 

Lila is just sitting in her room looking very alone and upset.when she hears the akuma wings fluttering she looks up. Suddenly she looks frightened and jumps back a bit gasping before it goes into her bracelet. 

Hawkmoth: "Volpina."

Lila: "Hawkmoth!" (She says this very happily)

Hawkmoth: "Your dreams were once a reality, until Ladybug turned them into a nightmare. Regain your power of illusion, and make this heroes day a nightmare for all Parisians!"

Lila: "With great pleasure Hawkmoth."

...

After Volpina does her whole thing and makes everyone in Paris worried,

Hawkmoth: "Dear Volpina, you've performed your role well for the time being. We will meet again very soon."

Volpina: "I'll be waiting, Hawkmoth."

After being detransformed, Lila looks up, and she has a very sinister smile.

About Volpina

Powers of Illusion. She uses her powers to make people believe what she wants them to believe, such as in her debut episode, where she uses these powers to convince Ladybug and Chat Noir and Adrien as well as all of Paris, that she is amazing and that she accomplishes great feats. As we know though, this is all an illusion. Much like her lies. She also uses these abilities to ruin the reputation of Ladybug in Hero’s day, as well as to attempt to trick Ladybug and Chat Noir. This mirrors her behavior in later episodes as well. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[heliosoll]

hello! how's your day? so how was your experience at your harry potter dr? like, day to day in the castle, and outside of it? if you lived the events of the books, how was it??? especially the triwizard tournament and the battle of hogwarts i'm DYING to know what it's like to be in the middle of all this mess.

Dementors, have you come close to any? a chamber of secrets! what it was like to be at school during that? how is the castle?! many people talk about the feeling of home, is it like that there or is it just a castle? have you seen the magical world outside the british bubble? if so, anything interesting?

I see that you have experienced all four houses, do you have any preferences and comments on the differences? if you were close to the golden trio, what are they like? flew on a broom? how it was? TIME TURNER!! if used... comments? what is it like to write with a quill? I don't see how I wouldn't have horrendous writing on this dr honestly

seriously, any detail would be amazing and I'm so sorry for so many questions (english is not my first language btw) hehe 😗

Hi :) My day has been great!

Oh goodness... I don't know if I've said this before but a big reason why I had four separate DRs for HP was so I could experience different versions of the reality! For instance, in the Gryffindor and Slytherin DRs, the main plot of the books and movies here was happening but in the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw DRs nothing was really happening (ie Voldemort didn't exist so we just chilled). Because of this, my experience in each DR was drastically different.

Day to day life is basically exactly what you see in the movies (at least for me it was)! You go to classes, you have some free time, you're able to chill around the school or in your dorm, etc. Every now and then something exciting or scary happens but it really was mostly normal school life (when you aren't getting into life endangering bullshit of course).

I was only in the Triwizard tournament in my Slytherin DR and for me it was more like the movies than the books. It's very intense though! Stupidly dangerous too. The most frustrating thing was not knowing what the tasks would be (I scripted to forget that little tidbit - big mistake on my part). The entire school gets swept up in the festivities, gossip, and betting on who's going to win though and that's actually fun. Not to mention the literal parties when the winner was from Hogwarts. It was really cute to see all four houses come together to cheer on the champion from Hogwarts, regardless of house rivalry.

The battle fucking sucked man 😭 Visually, it looked exactly like the movie! I remember being surprised at how hot it felt? But it was terrifying... I actually did remember the outcome of the battle while I was there but even then the adrenaline rush, fear, and anxiety I felt was so bad. I was genuinely scared that I was going to die or that people who "weren't supposed to die" were going to die even though I knew for a fact it wouldn't happen! I also scripted out certain deaths (like Fred and Sirius) but when it came time for Fred's death, I was really scared he was still going to die (he didn't). Idk... I've been to quite a few "scary" and dangerous DRs but I don't think I've ever felt that scared or anxious about a DR when I knew what was going to happen. I definitely recommend intending/scripting some fucking chill pills cause goddamn 💀 I had absolutely ZERO reason to be panicking that fucking hard

I have come close to Dementors! First, they smell like dead bodies. I don't know if that's in the books, but that's what it was like my all of my DRs. Gross. And by dead bodies, I mean the rotting variety. Stinky. They're also very cold! I think that's canon? When you get near them, it's... freezing. I remember reading a book about them and there were multiple documented cases of people getting frostbite from being near them.

During the chamber of secrets, well, I knew what was happening so I wasn't that concerned tbh. It was definitely scary but I also knew that everything would be okay and that no one was actually going to die. I was mostly worried about trying to tell them what was going on without making anyone suspicious of me.

I did get that feeling of the castle being home! While there was definitely a feeling of nostalgia, it also just happens naturally since you spend so much time there. It's literally a boarding school where you spend the majority of the year living, of course it's going to feel like home. It's really nice :)

I actually didn't see much of the magical world outside of Britain! I did travel to some places of course, but I didn't get a good grasp on other magical cultures. I actually plan to go back one day to travel more!

When it comes to the houses, I enjoyed my time in all of them! They all have their pros and cons hahah. I was surprised to find that Slytherin actually felt a lot more friendlier than I thought. They seriously value family and loyalty - once you're in Slytherin, you've got friends for life (whether you like it or not tbh). Ravenclaw was also a lot chiller than I thought it would be! Hm... I'm not really sure what else to say so let me know if you have specific questions about the houses :)

I got close to the golden trio in all of my DRs :) Personally, I was usually closest with either Harry or Hermione (sorry Ron), though there were a few times in my Slytherin DR where they didn't trust me. That hurt a little but I understood why so I wasn't that sad. As for their personalities, they were more like their book selves than their movie selves but every now and then something from the movie would slip out. (Like Ron being a little more naive in the movies happened a lot during the fourth year.)

Flying on a broom is amazing!! Definitely recommend shifting there just for that honestly. I mean I love flying anyway so maybe I'm biased but it's an incredible feeling, especially once you get the hang of it. I didn't expect to like quidditch since I'm not much of a sports person here, but I ended up really loving it just because I love flying so much.

The time turner was fun! A little disorienting though... I felt nauseous the first time I experienced it. But you get used to it really fast and it feels normal after the first couple of times.

Writing with a quill is just like it is here hahah It's definitely different than writing with a pen or pencil, but you get the hang of it. Just be careful with ink pooling and you'll be okay :)

I hope this answers all of your questions! This got a lot longer than I expected hahah