#I think he would have been thrilled at the prospect in this scene

[keydekyie]

POV: you are a humble plainclothes officer and your acquaintance has very politely invited you to meet her friend, who happens to be one of the extremely dangerous creatures you've spent your entire career hunting, and you are desperately trying to maintain your composure as he does his best to intimidate the shit out of you

[ptn-imagines]

I don’t know why but I have been thinking about Shalom and Rahu x fem!paradesis (or however you spell it) reader. Like they’re paired up for missions and stuff 😭😭😭

Here you go, anon! I figure that any Paradeisian that dates Rahu and Shalom is either already doubting Paradeisos or can be radicalized quickly. Also, these headcanons are mostly canon-compliant, but assume two divergences: 1) Rahu has been Shalom's bodyguard for longer than in canon, and 2) Paradeisos suspects something is fucky with Shalom. I spent a lot of time focusing on the pre-relationship, so if you want more, feel free to ask for a continuation!

This is 2.2k words, by the way. So I'm putting it under a cut to respect people's dashes.

Shalom and Rahu x Fem Paradeisos!Reader

When you first get paired with them for missions, they’re both… distant. On their guard.

Shalom is so polite and pleasant with you, it’s eerie. Rahu simply deigns not to talk to you unless you do so first, and when she does speak with you, her responses are short and sharp.

You’re used to the politics of Paradeisos leaving little room for niceties and frivolity, but these two feel like it’s something else. You can’t help but feel that you’re missing something you should really be aware of, but when you look around you, no one else seems to be bothered by it. Not even Shalom’s Schorl. Maybe it’s all in your head?

(You know that it isn’t, but what can you do about it?)

Honestly, you have no idea why your superiors keep assigning you with these two. Doesn’t Shalom have the entire HUSH system at her disposal, not just Rahu? And that’s without even mentioning the incredible power of her Schorl. All of it reeks of Paradeisian politics and you can’t help but feel like you’re just a pawn in a very intense game of chess with countless dimensions. Well, everyone is, but usually you can ignore the fact and get on with your duties. Not this time.

When your superiors have you report in secret at the end of the first month, you’re sure of it. They ask you all sorts of questions, but all of them relate to one topic – Shalom’s loyalty. It was in question? You’re baffled. You’re not privy to the details of her situation, it’s far above your station, but Shalom still never seemed like the type of person who’d betray Paradeisos. Rahu, maybe… but your superiors seemed to care as little for the Hush’s bodyguard as one would care for a slug beneath their boot.

Still, what can you do but answer honestly? You’ve not seen anything strange from either of them that would call their loyalty into question. You have no idea if this is the answer Paradeisos wanted to hear; the official you are speaking to has a completely unreadable expression, as always. He simply takes a few more notes and dismisses you, thanking you for your cooperation.

This continues, and you have to report on Shalom and Rahu’s activities every month. You get the feeling that the pair know why you’re truly here, and that’s why they’re so cautious of you. You don’t really blame them, as while you don’t have any evidence, you’re pretty sure that they must have something to hide. Paradeisos won’t care about mere speculation, though; it’s a blessing in some ways, since the unease you’ve been feeling about this whole situation has only grown stronger.

Paradeisos has really fucked up somehow; it’s the only impression you get of the whole thing. Much as it makes you feel like you’re walking directly into the lion’s den, you quickly come to the conclusion that you’ll never know peace unless you figure out just what is going on behind the scenes.

It’s impossible to catch Shalom without her Schorl, and you don’t want it reporting on your actions to Paradeisos. You’re not as valuable to them as the Hush, you’re expendable; if they so much as suspected your betrayal as they did with her, you’d be executed immediately. That left you with only one choice; speaking to Rahu. It was not a thrilling prospect.

Rahu didn’t like being in your company at the best of times, so interrupting her during a moment of repose did no favors for her mood. Her dark eyes glowered at you, lips twisted into a frown, almost a snarl. Still, it wouldn’t help her temper any more if you just left without saying anything, so you steeled your resolve and forged ahead.

“Rahu, sorry to interrupt you like this. I just want to ask you a few questions,” you began, and it wasn’t exactly Paradeisian to want to wither under somebody’s gaze, but the bodyguard looked for all the world like she was imagining one hundred different ways to kill you here and now. “It’s about you and Shalom… At the end of each of these past few months, Paradeisos has been asking me strange questions, ones that seem to call Shalom’s loyalty into question, and I wanted to know–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Rahu lunged for you; you could hold your own in combat, but you were no match for a powerful Sinner like Rahu. The struggle could barely be called that, and within moments you were pinned helplessly on the ground, Rahu’s blade a hair’s breadth from your neck, bloody fury making her silver eyes seem to glow. Even as it marked your imminent demise, they were as breathtaking as they were terrifying.

“I knew you were a Paradeisian mole,” she growled, her hot breath tickling your face. “Shalom said the best thing to do was keep acting normal, but if you’re getting this nosy, no need to keep you around any longer.”

Her blade pressed into your skin, droplets of blood welling to the surface. You weren’t going to survive this – she wouldn’t listen to anything you had to say – but you resolved to keep your eyes open and at least face your demise with some degree of dignity.

However, that final blow never came. Instead, you heard the door swinging open, and Shalom’s voice sighed. “Did you two get into a fight? Rahu, let her up. I’m sure whatever you were arguing about isn’t worth killing her over.”

Rahu gave you a venomous look, but obeyed her lady’s orders, standing up and withdrawing. You were left on the floor, reeling in shock, unable to process what had just happened and instinctively taking Shalom’s offered hand. It was softer than you thought.

“Please forgive Rahu for her outburst,” Shalom said to you with a smile that almost felt sincere. “She’s been restless lately. I should have paid better attention to her. I’ll talk with her to make sure this doesn’t happen again. May I treat your wound?”

You’re honestly too shocked to do anything but accept her offer, and she guides you to sit down. Her hands are surgeon-steady as she dabs disinfectant into your wound – a shallow cut, really, it didn’t call for this almost-clinical care – and she’s surprisingly tender about it. Your heart flutters even as you press your lips together to silence a hiss of pain.

That month, the stern-faced official who receives your reports asks you a new question. “Schorl reported that you were attacked by the Hush’s bodyguard. Could you report the incident in more detail? We will eliminate the rogue element if it will prove a threat to your work.”

Your work, more like a threat to Paradeisos. You paused, careful to make it look like you were taking a moment to recall the incident. Without a doubt, this was a test from Shalom. Apparently, she had seen something that she was willing to trust in you, despite everything; she had to have known that what provoked Rahu to almost kill you wasn’t just a simple disagreement. Yet, the fact that she dared to issue this test in the first place… Surely she knew that you had the power to have her most trustworthy ally killed, right here, right now. Knowing her reputation, that meant only one thing: she was sure you’d cover for her and Rahu.

She was right. You spun a story about how you’d accidentally provoked a spike in Rahu’s Mania, which, in a Sinner as volatile and powerful as her, had quickly led to violence. You were pretty sure this would get Shalom scolded for not disciplining her dog better (you were certain that’s how Paradeisos viewed Rahu), but that was a mere slap on the wrist compared to the alternative.

When you next returned to Erica Villa, Rahu was waiting for you. You half-expected her to finish the job from last time, seeing as her gaze upon you was still distrustful. At least it wasn’t downright venomous anymore. Instead, she just grabbed you by the arm – firmly, but not roughly – and muttered “we need to talk” before dragging you into a room and locking it behind her.

Inside this locked room, Rahu admits that Shalom’s loyalty is to nobody but herself, and Rahu will faithfully serve her lady alone until her dying breath. She doesn’t know the details, but Shalom’s plan would ultimately undermine both the Underground and Paradeisos. The first thing was undoubtedly a good thing, and you were starting to suspect the second might not be so bad. Apparently, since you hadn’t reported the true nature of Rahu’s attack to your superiors, you were seen as a possible ally, trustworthy enough to be privy to Shalom’s designs – “but if you become a liability, I’ll kill you where you stand,” Rahu added.

You had no intentions of betraying these two, of course, so you accepted the offer so graciously posed to you. Rahu still didn’t look like she was entirely happy with the arrangement, but she was willing to yield to Shalom’s judgment. So it was that you began aiding the two properly; Shalom would give orders to Rahu through their special connection, who would then pass them on to you. Paradeisos didn’t cease their monitoring of the pair, but didn’t seem to be aware that you were no longer serving their interests, which worked out well.

This new arrangement gave you a chance to be closer to Rahu and Shalom, too, and it caused you to notice things you’d never paid attention to before. Rahu was a gruff, scarred soldier, but there was a certain melancholy in her eyes that caused tides of sorrow to swell within your own heart. She protected Shalom, and to an extent, you, so faithfully, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel as if she was the one who needed a guardian… and every now and again, it seemed as though Shalom filled that role for her, bringing her a much-needed comfort.

Shalom, on the other hand… You started to notice she was not as machine-like as she first appeared. How much of her typical pleasantry was a farce, you didn’t know; that was par for the course with Paradeisians. But what she couldn’t fake was the warm glow in her eyes when her gaze lingered on Rahu, or the way her touches lasted a moment longer than they needed to when she tended to the bodyguard’s cuts and scrapes (and occasionally more serious wounds). Schorl didn’t notice it, perhaps couldn’t notice it, but you did. It almost looked like… love? But that was impossible, wasn’t it? If Rahu and Shalom were in a secret relationship, surely you’d know by now. Surely that was something you could be trusted with? You had to admit, it sounded kind of cute, even if it made your heart twist in an uncomfortable way.

Well, you guessed it wasn’t really any of your business. You tried to put it out of mind…

“Huh?” You were sure you’d misheard Rahu. “You… want me to join your relationship?”

Rahu rolled her eyes, but the effect was largely lost due to the pink flush that ran from her cheeks to her ears. “If you don’t want to, just say so, and we’ll forget this conversation ever happened.”

Of course, you very much did want to join their relationship, and you accepted with a giddy glee that Paradeisos would surely disapprove of. Good thing they’d never know.

Dating Shalom and Rahu was… interesting. Dating Rahu was definitely the easier part, as far as the traditional image of a relationship went – without Schorl’s 24/7 monitoring, you two were able to steal plenty of private moments in locked rooms. Rahu wasn’t much of a talker, so your relationship with her is full of passionate physicality. She kisses you like she’s drowning and you’re her only source of oxygen, and you often have to remind her not to leave marks in places that are hard to hide. You suspect she’s compensating for not being able to touch her other girlfriend, and the marks you do permit her to leave tend to last for days, both silent declarations of devotion and territorial claims to spite Paradeisos, even if they would never know.

Schorl made dating Shalom a whole lot harder than you would’ve liked. You can’t say pretty words of adoration or cuddle and kiss each other without landing you both in scalding water that may very well end with you all three of you killed. So, you have to compensate with more subtle acts of love, such as waking up early to make breakfast in bed for the other instead of one of the maids, or finding excuses to pretty much stay glued to one another for “protection” during missions. It’s not easy, but now that you know how Shalom expresses her love, you are never left in doubt of her feelings.

Despite how difficult the relationship can be at times, you’d never consider breaking up with Shalom and Rahu. You’re overwhelmingly happy, and you hope every day that Shalom’s labor will soon bear its fruits, and you’ll all be free from your yokes – or at the very least, that Paradeisos won’t bring you all crashing back down to earth.

[daresplaining]

Matt: "No, no." Milla: "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. But I-- I just couldn't think of any way to approach you other than this." Matt: "It's just that you are mistaken about my being Daredevil. That story just isn't--" Milla: "I can't stop thinking about what happened the other day. When you saved me from that truck-- it really... I mean, I know you are in situations like that...every day...but I am not. Nothing like that has ever--" Daredevil vol. 2 #43 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, Matt Hollingsworth, and Cory Petit

Matt: "Ironically, I'm not Daredevil." Kirsten: "Remarkably, you have a very slippery grasp of the truth for a l-a-w-y-e-r." Matt: "You really think I'm Daredevil." Kirsten: "I really know you're Daredevil. My nephew knows it, and he still believes in Santa. Let's get to why I'm here." Daredevil vol. 3 #1 by Mark Waid, Paolo Rivera, Javier Rodriguez, Joe Rivera, and Joe Caramagna

In any given superhero story where secret identities are a thing, it is always going to be a key factor in the relationship dynamic that the hero has with the other people in their life. For Matt Murdock, who experiences secret identity drama on scales previously unmeasured by science, that secret, and who knows it and who doesn't, quite often has the power to change everything. Whenever someone new enters his life, the arc of their relationship is frequently shaped by when, and how, they find out. Usually, it doesn't go well. In most cases, the big reveal is a shock to the status quo, a hurdle to overcome. Look at what happened when Maya first found out. Or Foggy. Or jeez, Heather.

But Milla and Kirsten exist in a special category all their own: they come into Matt's world already knowing--and not only that, but knowing with such conviction, and with so little interest in having the conversation at all, that even when Matt tries to uphold the lie, they just...ignore him. For Milla, Matt being Daredevil (and not only that, but being Daredevil and blind) is the key reason for her interest. She is thrilled by him. She thinks he's great, he saved her life, and she wants to ask him (him, Daredevil) out on a date. And Matt's first encounter with Kirsten, in the scene above, is due to his Daredevil identity leaking into his professional life: she comes from the D.A.'s office to advise him (him, Daredevil) that he might want to dial back his court appearances, because the fact that he's a suspected superhero is creating disruptions. Later, as their relationship turns romantic, Matt's increasingly halfhearted attempts to convince Kirsten that he's not Daredevil even get integrated into their flirtation.

Matt's Daredevil identity is all tied up in power and agency. It is a form of empowerment that he chose for himself following his father's murder, and one way he exerts and maintains control in his chaotic life is through having a say in who does or does not know his secrets. As Matt says in his perpetually-quotable conversation with Foggy at the end of Daredevil volume 3 #22: "I enjoyed having a big secret. When people make you feel like you're weak and helpless, it's empowering know something they don't", and the times when Matt has lost control of that secret have been nightmare ordeals for him. At the same time, history has shown how dangerous that secret can be to the people around him, especially those who haven't been given the full story about someone they are allowing into their orbit. And that's not to mention the toll on Matt; while secrets are empowering, they are also constraining, and since all the way back in the sixties he has resented his deep-seated need to split his identity into neatly-delineated boxes. Daredevil volume 4 allowed Matt a chance to experience true identity freedom, and he enthusiastically embraced it. In an ideal world, in a world where he didn't feel that need to control and safeguard the closest parts of himself, would he tell all of his friends, all of his prospective partners, anyone he wanted, that he was Daredevil right off the bat? Would it be a relief to avoid that moment of later shock and conflict he invites by keeping such a huge secret ticking like a time bomb? Maybe. (I might point toward his first interactions with Elektra as some evidence for the answer being "yes", at least in certain contexts).

Either way, it's compelling to have Milla and Kirsten as two examples of relationships in which the specter of secret identity angst does not even begin to exist; where the big secret is out on the table right from the start, whether Matt wants it to be or not. When he meets Milla, the circumstances are dire; his secret identity is in a huge amount of danger and he is extra paranoid about it. When Kirsten shows up, the situation is far more relaxed. But in both cases, it is a shift in the typical superhero/civilian power dynamic: Matt holds none of the cards and has to cope with losing that sense of control that's so important to him. At the same time, the guy is a daredevil. He likes being a little bit out-of-control. And it's neat to see him in this kind of a situation, where both sides know the score right from the beginning, and they are able to move forward without the burden of secret identity drama looming somewhere on the horizon.

[wylanslcve]

I love the way S2 showed the difference between how Jesper approaches a high-stakes situation in comparison to Wylan, specifically in the scene where they sneak into Pekka's estate by entering through an open window. Jesper practically jumps from the windowsill and then twirls his gun, whereas Wylan gently lowers himself from the windowsill before lightly dropping himself down when he's crouched close enough to the ground.

We know that Jesper thrives off chaos and spontaneity, hence why he leaps from the windowsill and immediately twirls his gun: he's diving head-first into the action. He actively seeks fights because of the thrill they bring him, because he "always felt better when people were shooting at him". You can practically see the adrenaline coursing through him.

Wylan slowly lowering himself until he's close enough to drop down is more careful and deliberate than Jesper's leap, and it shows the complete opposite: Wylan is more cautious and wary than Jesper because he doesn't thrive off the chaos of a fight. He doesn't find anything thrilling about being in a dangerous situation, especially when you consider his sheltered upbringing. (I say sheltered because, though abusive, his household never exposed him to the dangers of Barrel life. This is made clear in Crooked Kingdom when Wylan is reliving his first months in the Barrel, thinking about how "he might not have been happy at his father’s house, but he’d never had to work for anything. He’d had servants, hot meals, clean clothes. Whatever it took to survive the Barrel, Wylan knew he didn’t have it.") He doesn't want to get in trouble or get wrapped up in these sorts of situations because that's not who he wants to be - he doesn't want to be a criminal.

However, he inevitably leaps from the windowsill too (just when he's crouched low enough to do so) rather than slowly sliding off it and onto the ground, exemplifying how, despite how he doesn't want to be a criminal, he still contributes to the task at hand and gets involved in these types of situations. His hesitancy doesn’t paralyse him regardless of the fact that he doesn’t want to partake in criminal activity. Whether or not he wants to do it, this is the path he's decided to pursue and he needs to do his part.

This difference is also exemplified in the scene in S2E5 where Zoya and Tolya are recruiting the Crows for the heist to steal the Neshyenyer blade. When they offer payment for the Crows’ contributions, Jesper responds with “I like the sound of that” before taking a shot of something. In a way, it echoes the “time for a heist!” scene in season one, emphasising Jesper’s willingness to go on a heist due to the thrill it brings (as well as the prospect of a monetary reward). On the other hand, while Jesper is enthusiastically agreeing to Zoya and Tolya’s request, Wylan is giving him the bombastic side-eye due to Jesper's willingness to accept the mission without hesitation.

Again, Wylan can't fathom how someone could be so willing to go on such a mission, so he's side-eyeing Jesper in disbelief and almost disapproval but he's also not at all surprised because this is Jesper Llewellyn Fahey. Remember, Wylan doesn't thrive off adrenaline rushes the way Jesper does - he's only doing all of this because 1) his entire motivation is to "make his money, get out of town, and never speak the name Van Eck again" and 2) he pretty much has no other choice because he makes it very clear that "he would sell himself in the pleasure houses of West Stave before he’d ask for his father’s mercy".

[ingravinoveritas]

I’m excited for the renewal of GO3 but I’m also kind of a little worried for David because he’s been performing McBeth for 6 six weeks now and rehearsals are also killer and now their set to film GO? Just thinking about this exhausts me so I can’t imagine how he would feel (and Michael also for that matter since he’s been rehearsing for his own show). Also, please please PLEASE don’t let GT and AL be in GO PLEASE

Hear, hear, and three cheers to the renewal of GO 3!

All I can say is, it's about damn time we finally got this announcement. I am ineffably thrilled as well to know that we will have our boys back together in Scotland to bring us the resolution to Aziraphale and Crowley's story.

In terms of filming, I did see the press release that said GO 3 filming would begin "soon," but I think "soon" is a relative term here. David's run in Macbeth goes until early February, and then Michael is in Nye at the National Theatre from the end of February until May 11th. So "soon" likely means a good six months from now at the earliest (i.e., mid 2024). Hopefully that means both David and Michael will have time to rest up and prepare for the start of filming GO 3, but I would imagine them both feeling a sense of excitement and anxiety at their forthcoming schedules.

What I think Michael and David likely do not feel anxiety about, however, is the prospect of getting to spend more time with each other. And we know they are already seeing each other at least somewhat regularly right now, what with Michael being in London at the moment, so it stands to reason that Michael and David are going to be frequent fixtures in each other's lives and worlds for a very good portion of the next year. Lovely.

In terms of Georgia and Anna possibly being in S3, I will echo what @thereallovebug previously excellently said, which is that it is very tiring to think that we haven't even had the GO 3 announcement for a day, and already people are calling for them to be cast in the show, and it's just...can we not even fully process/absorb this news before jumping to yelling at Neil to cast people? Or maybe just skip the "yelling at Neil to cast people" part completely? I'm just confused as to why there has to be an immediate call to have them in the show when there may not even be a place for them in it.

I also keep thinking of the discussion that took place when the news about GO 2 first came out, which was that having any family member of Michael's or David's would be distracting, and we saw what ended up happening with Peter Davison and Ty. I thought Peter did very well as Job, but Ty just seemed out of place the entire time and it was like you could "see" him acting instead of just...being, and as a result, his performance did not quite gel with the rest of the scene.

The takeaway point here is that the role of Ennon could have gone to any number of aspiring young actors, talented actors looking for a shot at the big time, but who did not get to have that opportunity due to nepotism. It only makes sense, then, that the same would hold true for GT and AL. And to me, it's disrespectful to the show, to Neil, and to Michael and David at this point to act as if GO 3 is somehow "not good enough" unless GT and AL are in it. As if the thousands of other talented actors in the UK aren't good enough simply because they're not Georgia and Anna. I've been accused on multiple occasions of only disliking Georgia and AL because of who their partners are, but the fact that so many people are only fans of theirs for the same reason is apparently not a problem.

(I will not go into detail here about the myriad of reasons why people are fans of Georgia and AL's because of who their partners are, but I suggest reading this post from @artificial-indulgence, who has perfectly enumerated my own thoughts on the subject.)

It is for the reasons that are mentioned in the post I just linked to that I feel many fans are unwilling to see the reality of things, which is that Georgia is a passable actor, but Anna is not, and any halfway decent casting director is not going to overlook that. I'm thinking back to an Ask I answered yesterday about her being edited out of the photo used for the I Talk Telly Awards and (more significantly) that no one actually seemed to notice that she was missing.

Given that, it's highly unlikely that someone whose performances are so unmemorable would be cast in the third installment of a major global TV show--at least purely based on merit. And knowing how important this third season is, how it's meant to resolve Aziraphale and Crowley's story and give us what Neil and Terry envisioned so many years ago, it would be truly unfortunate to see all of that overshadowed by other things.

But yes, today was very much a day filled with good news (and which I wholeheartedly appreciated, given that I am dealing with some difficult personal issues at the moment). More thoughts to come in a follow up post, so stay tuned...

[alexendravh]

This is an experiment! You can read the fic and then at the end there will be a poll and the explanation!

Chasing Victory

Charles leclerc x reader

Summary not anything, this is an experiment!

Word count 504

Please repost so I can have a bigger audience for this experiment

It was a crisp autumn afternoon at the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, the air filled with the scent of anticipation and excitement. You stood at the edge of the track, watching as the Formula 1 cars roared past, their engines a symphony of power and precision. Among them was Charles Leclerc, a rising star in the world of motorsport, his red Ferrari cutting through the wind with grace and determination.

As the race unfolded, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride each time Leclerc flew by, his skill and talent evident with every turn of the wheel. You had been a fan of his for years, admiring not only his prowess on the track but also his humility and grace off of it.

Lost in the thrill of the race, you didn't notice him approaching until he was right beside you, his presence commanding yet comforting. His eyes, a captivating shade of brown, sparkled with warmth as he offered you a smile.

"Enjoying the race?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engines.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "It's amazing to watch you out there."

Leclerc's smile widened, a hint of pride shining through. "Thank you. I'm glad you're here."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air filled with the electric energy of the race. Then, as if on cue, the cars thundered past, the ground trembling beneath your feet.

Leclerc turned to you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Would you like to come to the paddock after the race? I could show you around."

Your heart skipped a beat at the invitation, the prospect of spending time with Leclerc sending a thrill through your veins. "I'd love to," you replied, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

As the race drew to a close, Leclerc emerged victorious, the crowd erupting into cheers as he crossed the finish line. You cheered along with them, your heart swelling with pride for the talented driver who had captured your admiration.

After the podium celebrations had concluded, you followed Leclerc to the paddock, where he greeted you with a smile. Together, you wandered through the bustling crowds, Leclerc regaling you with stories from the race and introducing you to his team.

As the sun began to set over the paddock, casting a warm glow over the scene, Leclerc turned to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Would you like to go for a walk? Just the two of us?"

You nodded eagerly, the prospect of spending more time with Leclerc filling you with joy. Hand in hand, you strolled through the paddock, the sounds of celebration fading into the distance as you lost yourselves in conversation.

In that moment, with the cool autumn breeze on your skin and Leclerc by your side, you knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey—one filled with thrilling races, shared victories, and the kind of love that could withstand any challenge the track threw your way.

Explanation: I saw a poll asking if anyone would read a fanfic made by Ai. So I made one. This is a fic made by ChatGPT

[firstkanaphans]

in BoP aye and Akk where looking for a house and you wrote with an extra room? Is that meant like they want a kid together? Or for what the extra room? I am so stupid I am sorry! And if that if for a kid.. how did that conversation went?

Yes, it's for a baby 😭 Here, I wrote a short little scene for you! I hope you enjoy 💛

Read on AO3

Akk thought that the hardest part of buying a house with Aye would be in mustering up the courage to ask, but that turned out to be the easy part. Aye had been ecstatic when he’d asked. Apparently, he’d never much cared for Akk’s apartment in the first place and was thrilled by the prospect of moving somewhere with “personality.” Akk didn’t bother asking what that meant—he thought it would probably offend him. He just hired a realtor and they began searching.

At first, Aye seemed fine with the proceedings, eagerly touring house after house, but as the weeks wore on, his excitement noticeably diminished. If Akk was a less confident person, we might have thought that regret had finally started to sink in, but he knew that wasn’t true—partially because they were still fucking with the ferocity of rabbits in heat, but mostly because Aye was unabashedly planning a ceremonial burning of Akk’s living room furniture, which he apparently believed to be haunted by the ghost of an elderly accountant that had keeled over out of boredom. Which was why his disinterest in the two-bedroom cottage they were currently touring was so goddamn confusing. Akk knew that he wanted this. So why wasn’t he acting like it?

“So…what do you think?” Akk asked from behind the kitchen island as Aye walked from cabinet to cabinet, opening each one as if he expected to find something inside.

“It’s cute,” Aye said without turning around. It was cute. More than cute even. It was perfect. Newly renovated, close to both of their jobs, and within their price range. Akk was honestly surprised it was still available.

“And?” Akk prompted.

Aye hummed, indifferent, and Akk had to resist the urge to smack him. He took a deep breath and then turned to their poor realtor who was watching the two of them not talk from the doorway. “Could we have a minute?”

Unbothered by whatever couple’s spat she was stuck in the middle of, the realtor agreed, stepping outside to make a phone call. When Akk turned back to Aye, he was frowning as if he knew he was about to get into trouble. And although Akk was frustrated, the worried look on Aye’s face softened his anger. It was almost as if Aye didn’t understand his feelings himself. Akk stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. Aye accepted the hug gratefully.

“What’s wrong with you?” Akk asked. “Do you not want to buy a house right now? Because we don’t have to.”

Akk had a suspicion that Aye’s reticence might have to do with money. Aye was still new at his job. He hadn’t had time to build up savings like Akk had, so Akk would be making the brunt of the down payment for the both of them—which he didn’t mind—but he was concerned that that arrangement might have made Aye feel beholden to him. Aye had seemed fine with it at the time, though, even going so far as to joke, “I’ve always wanted a sugar daddy.” But maybe things had changed…

“Of course I want to buy a house with you,” Aye said, interrupting Akk’s thoughts. “It’s just—” He looked around the cottage and trailed off with a heavy sigh.

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just…so small.”

Out of all of the things Akk had expected him to say, that was the least of them. “You’re moping because the houses I’ve picked aren’t big enough for you?” Akk laughed, pushing Aye away playfully. “How big do you need it, baby?”

Aye rolled his eyes as if Akk was completely missing the point. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, leaning back against the well-polished counter. Akk trapped him there, placing one hand on each side of Aye’s body, caging him in.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just meant that…” Aye trailed off, his face sobering, and then looked Akk right in the eyes as if he wanted to make sure he heard him. “I just meant that a house this size doesn’t leave us any room to grow.”

It took Akk an embarrassingly long time to realize what he meant and when he did, he stumbled backwards as if he had been pushed. “You’re talking about a baby,” he said, his heart racing. They weren’t married—they weren’t even engaged—and yet twenty-four-year-old Aye was the one thinking about their future.

Aye shrugged, not the least bit ashamed of his own desires. The thing about Aye was that he always knew what he wanted. And he was always willing to do whatever it took to get it. “Imagine a little baby with my nose or your eyes. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Akk didn’t dare imagine it because he knew that if he did, it would have the power to destroy him. For years, he’d watched his friends get married and have babies. He’d never thought either of those things were a possibility for him, so he’d never let himself want them. But now there was this boy who he wanted to build a life with him and he was starting to realize just how much longing he had been repressing.

“You want to have a baby with me?” he asked, his brain running a bit slower than usual.

“I don’t know,” Aye admitted. “But I think the option might be nice. I mean, I like this place—I do—but it’s barely bigger than our apartment now and there’s no yard. Forget kids. We couldn’t even get a dog if we wanted to. I just think that I want more. More, with you.”

They’d been together for almost a year now and the love between them had matured, had deepened, to levels Akk had thought were impossible. He stepped forward and he kissed him. “I want more with you, too.”

When the realtor came back a few minutes later, Akk and Aye were both smiling. The realtor brightened as well. “So? What do we think?”

“It’s not for us,” Akk said confidently. “But maybe we could start looking for family homes instead?”

The realtor smiled, soft and knowing. “I think I have just the place.”

[backjustforberena]

Do you think Rhaenys was relieved or upset that Viserys rejected Laena as a marriage prospect? She was there the first time around when Aemma was wed at 13 and had multiple losses before having Rhaenyra at 15, but that's also her daughter losing chance at being Queen.

Good question. Complicated answer. At least, it is for me. Some may disagree and that's okay, but I'm tempted to never absolve Rhaenys in her culpability in the act of proposing Laena as a bride to Viserys. I think she does it with her eyes wide open, I think a part of her wanted the match to happen and I think that she wasn't pressured or bullied into it. For her sins, she wants the match to occur.

Laena's youth is the only thing against this match and, even then, Rhaenys has put in a safeguard: she won't have to bed Viserys until she turns 14. She makes SURE that Laena knows that and would make sure Viserys knew it. The rest of the reasoning, which I assume Rhaenys has thought of and discussed at length with Corlys, are all reasons to put Laena forward as a bride and reasons why Viserys would be a good match.

Even the issue you cite in your ask, nonnie, can be logically and reasonably defended against if you want to look at it as a simple pro and con list without any emotional factors in there. Laena would be consummating the marriage at an older age than Aemma did. Viserys is an older, more experienced bridegroom than he was with Aemma. The assumption is things would be different. Rhaenys sees her daughter as a very strong girl and sees her cousin as a kind man. I don't think she believes she'd be putting Laena in any overt or specific danger.

(Although, just a quick book lesson: Viserys and Aemma married when Aemma was 11, and unconsummated until she was thirteen. We have no idea, in fact, how aware of these events Rhaenys was or even if she attended the wedding as she would have been either pregnant or post-partum and it during a rocky time, as they wed, at most, a year after Prince Aemon died and Rhaenys was passed over in the succession - in the midst of the Second Quarrel. However, we have no idea when Viserys and Aemma get married in the show - it's possible that neither Aemma or Viserys were that young and, therefore, it does not factor into Rhaenys's view within the show. And in the book, it's not Corlys and Rhaenys that propose the match.)

She's very vocal in telling Viserys that the match is a good one, moreso than Corlys. She's side-by-side with her husband and he checks in with her before making the offer. In my reading of the scene, it wasn't a case of "going along" with Corlys - I think the blame is far more on the system and on this entrenched sense she has of the patriarchy: she sees this as the only way to go i.e this is the "order of things", so she bows to that, as opposed to any individual. It's an internal conflict.

Because this is the way that makes sense, the way that is advantageous to her daughter as much as it is hideous to her, overall. She's doing something she'd rather not do - what mother would? But she is of the opinion that she, as a woman, will always have to do such as it's the only way to do things because of her political position and the ultimate lesson that was the Great Council. Rhaenys has shown time and time again, throughout the series, that she is completely and utterly realistic, if nothing else. Pragmatic, even.

Of course, the straight answer is obviously her daughter not marrying her much older cousin is absolutely wonderful. It bothered her in the first place, we know that, we heard her say it. Rhaenys will be thrilled she gets to keep her daughter with her for longer, on Driftmark, not relinquishing her to the Red Keep. But not wedding her to Viserys opens up to who will she marry? (The implication is that Laena was left unbetrothed as Corlys was off at war, not because they thought she was far too young for a betrothal - in the show, at least, the book differs ofc). At least with Viserys, he was known. At least there were various things that Rhaenys could hold within herself and try and reassure herself with:

Viserys would never bar Laena from a dragon (in the book, Laena is already a dragon rider. This is not the case in the show as Laena says she claims Vhagar when she is 15) or be unable to understand her bond and interest with the creatures. He'd also not seek to use that dragon as a weapon or something to "better" himself or empower himself with. There's no need for it.

Viserys is a kind man. He is not a drunkard. He would not beat her. He is not a spendthrift. He is also in charge of his holdings, as opposed to an heir yet to inherit or, worse, a son not due to inherit anything.

Laena would be kept in a manner to which she is accustomed: a hard thing to do when your dad is the richest man on earth, but this is the one match that would have Laena ascend to, arguably, a position she was born to. Even if not Queen, then Princess.

King's Landing is very close to Driftmark. It's not far away and Rhaenys could easily and frequently visit, especially with Corlys being on the Small Council. If Laena were married to another lord, that access is threatened. In other words: Laena will have the support and protection of her parents. They can be as involved as they like.

It's politically advantageous to their house. Rhaenys is a political animal. She knows the writing is on the wall with the Stepstones, she knows that Viserys will have to marry and that whomever he marries, they will have very close influence and access to the King. Of course she would want that. She'll be aware of the stresses that have been going on in the last six months. Longer than that: with the Stepstones.

It keeps the Valryrian lines together. Absolute win.

It goes some way to satisfying their ambition. Both Corlys and Rhaenys.

Laena would be Queen. Laena would be the mother of a King. And if it's a marriage for love that Laena wants later on, then she'll have the latitude to do that when Viserys dies. She'll still be young enough to remarry to have a life that could be anything she wishes, especially with a King for a son. Queen Mothers have remarried before.

By not marrying Laena, all those anxieties and questions would stay as they are: who will she marry her daughter to? How much control will she have? Will she be treated well?

Plus, when you lay it all out like that, and certainly what the show wants us to see, is that this match would be the best thing, in comparison to Alicent Hightower. I can imagine Rhaenys being very worried when she hears Laena has not been chosen, as much as she is relieved. Upset? No. I don't think Rhaenys "does" upset, not in matters such as this. But it's not just about Laena not marrying Viserys. It's not just "my 12 year old daughter won't marry my 40+ year old cousin" - it's everything surrounding that and Rhaenys is far too smart to be unaware of that.

The rejection essentially means destabilisation, not only for Hosue Velaryon but for the realm as a whole. And she hasn't got a clue what Viserys is thinking. Because why would you throw this away? Why would you reject HER daughter? Why is he, basically, just making things worse? Widening the gap between the Houses when barely a few days ago (or whatever the timeline is) he was saying he valued the bonds between the Houses?

And it's got instant consequence: Corlys resigns as Master of Ships. They pack off to Driftmark, boycott the royal wedding and throw in their lot with Daemon and start a war to protect their shipping lanes. A war that, if Laena had married Viserys, would have been backed by the Crown, in all likelihood. So they're p***ing off the Crown by doing this without the King's leave (not that I see Rhaenys being mad at that).

And Laenor goes off with that war: he's fifteen. Rhaenys will have known that from the get-go. If it's war, Laenor will likely have to go. In marrying Laena to Viserys, there might have been some avoiding that. There won't be now. And there will be no allying with the Crown. There will be no presence at court, no direct awareness of the political landscape. It's a severance from such involvement, which has it's own vulnerabilities as much as it affords her house independence.

Anyway, I'll attempt to wrap up, apologies, this was a stream of consciousness. The answer is: Rhaenys would feel all the things and show very few of them. It's what she always does. She would be sad for her daughter. Happy for her daughter. She would be frustrated. She would be worried. She would be angry. She would be relieved. She would be unsurprised. She would be aghast. Such are people.

Honestly? She would likely not dwell on it long. They have other storms to face and she has other pains to carry.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Question...? (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.3 K Rating/ Warning: E/ None

Premise: After their last night together, he gathers up the courage to ask her out. Properly. 

Note: So this is inspired by that scene in 2.12 where Ethan tells MC he was thinking of asking them out at the end of their intern year (See the end for the screenshot). I know you only get this dialogue if you never slept with Ethan but I was so angry about that (because akljaksdjkls that’s so sweet, Ramsey) that I decided to write this. 

They approach the front door of her building. With every step, his heart thrills at the memory of waking next to her only moments before, warm bodies fitting so perfectly together, it is difficult to ever imagine them apart. The companionable silence carries memories of their night together, of how her name left his lips in yearning, desperate little whispers. The space that separates them as they walk toward their inevitable end is a burning reminder that he never wants to leave her side.

Outside, the morning is as ordinary as any other, the city of Boston moving at its usual pace among a sea of rusted, red brick. It disconcerts Ethan that life continues so seamlessly when the best thing that happened to him is ending. Everything should be standing very still.

“Sorry about Sienna and Elijah,” she says after a small pause. Neither of them want to say goodbye.

“I trust they'll be discreet.”  

Lilac peers at him in the dim, gray light of the overcast day. “They will be. No one will find out about… us.”

Us.

There is a small silence, Lilac's eyes scanning his face as though memorizing it.

“Goodbye, Ethan,” she whispers, moving in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. The finality of the moment—of the way his arms circle around her a little too fiercely— cuts through him like a jagged knife. Lilac, the bravest of the two, pulls away, her face tense as she fights back the tears.

She doesn't wait to hear him return the words, perhaps too afraid the tears would win.

Her kiss is all he can think about an hour later as he travels down the halls of Edenbrook, the imprint of her soft lips burning his flesh. The tips of his fingers ache without the planes of her skin beneath them. His mind, intent on torturing him, replays the curve of her sleepy smile and the melody of her whispered words.

In less than two hours, her absence has driven him to the brink of insanity. Ethan had no other name for what he was about to do except pure, unbridled stupidity.

The locker room is almost deserted except for one person. The tiny brunette jumps at the sight of him, dark eyes growing wide. Perhaps it's his presence alone that inspires shock or the determined purpose in his stride.

“Dr. Ramsey!” Trinh all but squeaks.

He wastes no time on pleasantries.

“Have you seen Lilac?”

She pauses, gathering her wits.

“She said she wanted coffee.”

He pauses at that. After everything they'd been through the night before, the least he could've done was get her coffee. Ethan had been too distracted by their impending end. His focus had been entirely invested on bracing himself for the pain of their inevitable goodbye.

“I'd try the lounge,” Trinh adds kindly. There is no doubt she picks up on his intentions, particularly after what she saw that morning.

Ethan lingers, unsure of what else to say. A desperate, terrified part of him wants advice and Trinh, with her kind smile and understanding eyes, seems like a treasure cove of wisdom. In the end, he opts for a grateful nod before retreating.

Just as Trinh predicted, Lilac is in the staff lounge, moving expertly as she fixes herself a cup of dreadful coffee. The prospect of caffeinated dishwater doesn't damper her mood, however, because she hums as she stirs copious amounts of cream into the dark liquid.

Ethan watches her from the doorway, as though watching something precious, unattainable, and out of reach. He lingers at the fringes of the room, an uninvited spectator to this tiny fraction of her life: morning coffee and a hummed melody. He has no right to be there, drinking her in, but everything in him longs to just take a step forward…

A single step. That's all separating him from what he wants most in this world.

He wants mornings with her and that lively smile, no matter how dreadful the coffee is. He wants to wrap his arms around her waist and greet her with lazy kisses and a “Good morning, beautiful.” He wants to tease her about the ghastly amounts of cream and sugar in her coffee.

He wants to be with her.

And all there is left separating them is his pride—a formidable wall that is finally crumbling for once in his life. There is his fear for her career. There is one step, one hello, one question.

Do you want to go out with me?

Lilac deserves more than a few nights in his bed. She deserves to be asked out properly. This time around, he wants to do things right.

“I heard you can make the shit coffee here taste pretty decent.”

It's that handsome, grinning surgeon, Bryce Lahela. He appears through the other entrance to the tiny break room. Lilac laughs at that and the sound carries no indication of the sadness he saw in her eyes that morning.

“The secret is tons of cream and sugar.”

“I have something better.”

“Oh, yeah? And what's that?”

“The magic touch.”

The surgeon raises his hands to eye level. This makes her snort with laughter.

“Your hands? What are they going to do to make this coffee taste better?”

“Steal Varma's hazelnut creamer from the fridge.”

With a flourish, he does just that, setting the jug on the counter before Lilac.

“No, thank you. I don't feel like getting strangled today.”

It's his turn to laugh. The surgeon watches her as she sidesteps the creamer with the conviction of someone avoiding a landmine. Soon enough, amusement turns into something else, something more serious and almost uncharacteristic for Lahela. From the doorway, Ethan can see the same unspoken question shining in his eyes.

“Hey, Lil—”

The simultaneous buzz of their pagers interrupts him.

“Oh shit, Chief Emery wants to see everyone in the atrium.”

The bustle of the crowd dies down momentarily when he enters the room. It's something that occurs naturally among interns when Ethan makes his presence known. Several pairs of eyes study him, as though he holds information about why they were called there.

As the crowd parts for him, he comes face to face with Lilac.

Their eyes meet and electricity strikes through his insides. He stops, unsure of how to address her. Part of him is afraid that opening his mouth will result in a lengthy confession.

Do you want to go get dinner tonight?

Instead, he says—

“...Dr. Allende.”

Lilac pauses.

“Dr. Ramsey…”

There is nothing else to be said. They continue to walk past each other, nothing more than attending and intern to anyone who casually glances their way.

It was pathetic to think he could ever fully ignore her because his eyes find her only moments later. With a bravery only Lilac can inspire, he realizes he doesn’t have to pretend any more.

You could ask for a different attending to supervise her. You’re not her only boss.

HR paperwork, red tape, bureaucratic bullshit— he’s willing to go through all of it.

All he had to do was ask her.

If she even says yes.

There is a very real possibility she wants nothing to do with him. The image of Lilac, fighting back tears that morning as they said goodbye, tortures him right then and there. After putting her through that, he wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t interested…

Green eyes meet his, rooting him to the spot like they always do.

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment. He can see Lilac studying every plane and ridge of his face, no doubt reading him like an open book. Something softens in her own expression, her green eyes darkening with something that takes him a millisecond to name. Shining there is a reflection of his own feelings, his own want, his own agony at being apart— she feels them just as fiercely as he does.

Harper addresses the crowd then but Ethan barely catches the words.

One step, one leap, one question.

He decides then he will ask when they’re finally alone.

Note: And then Naveen says “LOL no. You’re her boss now.”

Okay so I spent an embarrassing amount of time looking for the screenshot but I can’t find it. This is what Ethan says about asking MC out:

[bestbehaviorofficial]

welcome to my official blog for best behavior— i actually wrote a really real full-length play! i have wanted to make an oc blog for SO long now and i finally just succumbed.

some things to know:

this wip has been in existence since june of 2023, and although it's an extremely slow process i got very attached to the characters.

it's a play. or at least it would be, if it existed. *as of august 22nd, it exists!

it's a dramedy. there are definitely comedy elements and definitely drama elements. it's all about the balance.

more information under the cut!

WHAT IT'S ABOUT: a guy named mack decides to start an entire community in which there are no insecurities. the idea is that there will be hundreds of rules keeping everyone so similar that no problems would even have the opportunity to start. he recruits two others to help him out: michael, his very charismatic bestie, and marissa, who is a really talented receptionist. turns out, they can bend this new community to their will very easily, and with the power of friendship, they make each other worse. i mean better.

CHARACTERS: mack (short for "machiavelli"— he chose that name himself and he's very proud of it): the president of the Fellowship and Brotherhood. he's skittish and anxious, and when he isn't, he's faking it. think of the day where you felt the most insecure. that's every day for this guy. he hates himself to such an extent that it's comedic. literally all he wants is to be normal, and he's not too far off. he worked a basic office job so basic that he wasn't even entirely sure what he did there. then he quit to start this whole Fellowship thing. it's a community free of insecurity, basically. he says it's to help people, to protect people, and such. however, the HUNDREDS of rules he comes up with as the days go by are all just his personal insecurities. so he can get rid of them. and there are a LOT of them. he rewrites his own reality with these rules. things like his height and fashion sense annoy him. things like his sexuality rip him apart.

michael: mack's ride-or-die sidekick & vice president. he's smart and sarcastic and Will be the center of attention if he enters a room, just because that's how he is. he's the best public speaker of the team. he and mack were roommates in college, at Some Prestigious University. since then, michael has been, for lack of better words, obsessed. michael would literally follow mack to the ends of the earth. he himself is not a bad person— he's charismatic and fun to be around, and generally very likable— but he's mack's sidekick first and foremost. even though being gay for the Fellowship's president is VERY MUCH AGAINST THE RULES, michael cannot seem to follow that rule correctly.

marissa: the Fellowship's official secretary. to be blunt: she's a workaholic with no real friends. she worked at the same office job as mack, so she knows how boring life can get. when mack and michael asked her to join their project, she was skeptical, but the prospect of a place where she would be appreciated, plus the bonus of Actual Friends, was too much for her to resist. she's put in charge of running confessional, which is where people go when they break rules. although she's thrilled to have a position of importance, and really wants to make mack & michael happy, hearing about people's problems 24 hours a day weighs on her.

SOME OTHER NOTES

i have a playlist for them so if you want song recs i have quite a few.

it's tempting to say that mack gets no bitches. this isn't exactly accurate. he gets One bitch and ignores it. michael can get bitches but is too hung up on an anxious train wreck. marissa doesn't have time for bitches anyway.

it is absolutely imperative to me that every scene just drips with homoerotic tension

i'm writing when i am physically capable of writing. this is not often. the stars have to align. they're not aligning, but i'm trying my very best. (edit: the stars aligned and now i have a play)

if you've made it this far: thanks :)

[frazzledsoul]

Kind of thinking of the dance marathon scene where Luke and Lorelai discuss kids which in retrospect seems like cruel foreshadowing that leads to nothing but...when you think about what they actually say to each other, neither of them seem that enthusiastic about the prospect. Luke doesn't seem thrilled about dealing with babies, but might reconsider...later. Maybe. Lorelai is not sure if she wants to do it again without motherhood being tied to so much of her formative experiences...but she might consider it again. Maybe. Someday. This actually isn't an obscure topic for either of them, as they are both raising teenagers, and that story doesn't end once Rory and Jess both leave home (Luke is always the person Jess fights with in his return appearances, the one he needs to make amends with, the person who lends him money, advises him on his love life, shows up for his special events...it's always Luke, not his actual mother). So the whole idea of parenthood being this special experience that will take place in this ideal far off future is never a reality. It's happening, it's always been happening, it will continue to happen.

So then we go back to the other big reference, Lorelai telling Luke "kids would be good" after they get engaged. She's not enthusiastic. When she meets the real estate agent who's handling the sake of the Twickham house and the agent mentions the house is great for tons of kids, Lorelai says "Oh, no. Not you, too." Doesn't sound like she was that in love with the prospect, even when it came time to discuss it. And of course (and this is fucking ridiculous, but anyway) she never even considers the subject in nine years of common law marriage with Luke (and he only seems to consider it briefly himself).

So....did they really want kids? Luke did by season 6, he was open about that. I think he had a real need to experience fatherhood without having an absent biological father as competition, something he never got with Rory or Jess. That's what April is for, whether people like it or not....and by the time she was introduced, ASP was close enough to the endgame to know she wanted to give Luke this because she was never going to let him and Lorelai have a baby (and if it helps destroy their relationship so she can finally live out her Christopher and Lorelai dream ship for a while, even better!) I mean, it would have been great if these two could get their shit together, blend their families, and finally have that traditional family experience, but...that's not really their story, has never been their story, and I don't think that's a tragedy. I don't think Lorelai ever wanted it, and Luke didn't want it that badly once he had April (and realized that Jess had turned out so well and hey, maybe he didn't screw up that badly the first time after all).

And even if it had happened...if it was shown to the fandom in any kind of semi-realistic detail, they wouldn't have been able to handle it. There's always this fantasy that Lorelai ends up being this perfect stepmother, but fans couldn't handle the way that was portrayed in AYITL when Luke refuses to concede to her suggestion that he force April to get a job before he spends any more money on her. They couldn't accept that Lorelai could be informed on April's life, and spend time with her, and make suggestions, but that she was not the parent and she doesn't get to make decisions for her. It was always about Luke being an evil ogre who is keeping Lorelai apart from April, that he's the real reason they aren't closer, that he is irredeemably evil for not giving Lorelai what she wants and letting her control the entire situation. So unless it ends up with Lorelai being this fantasy figure who gets to win every argument...no, this fandom could not have handled an actual blended family situation.

So, yeah, maybe it was in their best interest not to have kids.

(BTW, Luke was absolutely correct in that situation...Rory had moved her ass home, she had no real job or plans for her life until Jess showed up and gave her a push in the right direction, and Lorelai was doing zilch to actually encourage her to do something productive. So Lorelai's a hypocrite by suggesting that April is a mooch and should get a job, and her offering money to Luke for something she doesn't support is not a good idea. But yeah....this is a pretty common sort of stepparent argument about adult children).

[morganaseren]

Hi! In line with Josephine and Niamh, what would it be like if they're were both ambassadors who worked frequently with each other???

Oh! Well, as luck would have it, I have a WIP regarding that type of scenario too! It's not as fleshed-out as my other Niamh/Josephine AU, which is why I originally opted to post that one up instead. 😂 Anyway, here is a list of my current thoughts for this verse thus far!

Things to Know:

No Blight of Darkspawn threat.

The Circle of Magi doesn’t exist, so mages live freely.

The Veil was never torn apart, so elves also live freely in addition to being rather long-lived.

This verse will take place around the Inquisition timeline in 9:41 Dragon since that's also around the same time Josephine would be trying to restore her family's landed trader status in Orlais. As such, Josephine would be 28 and Niamh 33.

Since The Landsmeet consists of various noble houses and operates as official legislative body in Ferelden outside of the King and/or Queen, Niamh has been serving as her family's liaison within it since she was 19.

However, Niamh was given the title of Royal Archmage at age 23 during Queen Anora's coronation since she'd been instrumental in helping the other woman secure her place on the throne following the untimely death of King Cailan a year earlier. Enough of The Landsmeet had argued Alistair, Cailan's half-brother, should be crowned instead since he was next in line to rule. As a close friend of his, however, Niamh knew Alistair was terrified of such a prospect since being King was never something he wanted.

As a means of giving Alistair a way out, Niamh gathered evidence detailing just how much more involved Anora was in various legislative and diplomatic matters around the country in comparison to her late husband. This succeeded in overturning several crucial hold-out votes within The Landsmeet, and Anora was declared Queen.

Because of Niamh's initiative in the matter, however, many were able to see her utter brilliance in diplomacy closehand. As such, no one objected when she was raised in position to be a part of Anora's inner circle as Royal Archmage, serving as the country's lead strategist and ambassador.

Niamh's largely been well-respected in various diplomatic circles around Thedas by the time Josephine enters the scene in her early twenties. There would definitely some initial hero worship on Josephine's part when they meet, but I think Niamh would also be interested in watching how Josephine's career unfolds, given what she's heard of her accomplishments thus far.

They cross paths frequently over the years—enough that they make the time to get together for lunch or some such whenever they're both in the same city. While they try not to involve work too much in their discussions, it does happen on occasion. By then, however, they respect one another's abilities enough to where they both often act as a sounding board for the other to gather their thoughts and brainstorm plans to see them through.

They do share gossip when it comes to the dignitaries they have to work with though and give each other strategies on how to best deal with them. "Duke Von Ahn enjoys hearing himself talk, which can be rather problematic when one is working on a limited timeframe. He has a weakness for those little truffles found in the chocolaterie near the waterside though. Kindly ply him with a few if you're trying to get the meeting back on schedule."

When Josephine becomes Antiva's Chief Ambassador to Orlais, Niamh's thrilled for her, and she travels to Orlais for the resulting masquerade in her honor. It's a type of event that Niamh rarely volunteers to go outside of official matters, and her closest friends and relatives definitely pick up on that right away... 😏

Nothing in their immediate friendship changes with one another though—at least not until Josephine's messengers are consequently killed when she tries to restore her family's trading status.

Knowing that Josephine's in danger definitely jumpstarts a lot of Niamh's feelings, especially when an unexpected—but ultimately unsuccessful—assassination attempt on Josephine's life occurs.

They probably share a mutual love confession just as the matter with the House of Repose and all the legal red tape gets settled.

Of course, in true dramatic fashion, their new relationship gets rocked when Josephine's parents arrange a betrothal of their daughter to Lord Otranto, completely unaware Josephine's in love with Niamh. 🤣

While I don't envision an actual duel between Niamh and Otranto happening in this verse, I can imagine NIamh going to great lengths to prove her love and devotion to Josephine. If you're familiar with the floating lantern scene in Tangled, then imagine Niamh arranging several hundred of these to be made (she had to pull in so many favors by her friends and family to get this done on time 😂) in honor of Josephine's birthday in Antiva, which she attends.

The lanterns get released that same evening ("One last birthday present! I promise!"), but since Niamh still has access to magic in most of her AUs, she uses her powers to crowd some of the lanterns together in specific patterns to spell out a message that leaves most of the party's guests completely astonished. Josephine is as equally dumbfounded as she rereads the words displayed so prominently in the night sky, but it isn't until she catches sight of Niamh kneeling before her, ring in hand, that they finally register to her.

Niamh's speech as she proposes: "I know I can't wreathe you in all the stars in heaven that you so rightfully deserve, but I can only hope this humble attempt will be enough. Josephine, will you do me the greatest honor by becoming my wife?"

And there you have it! I'm sorry that I don't have an actual scene for this AU written just yet, but I hope you like the little ideas I have so far! Thanks for sending this in!

[mochibdsm]

on scene reports

Today I want to talk about scene reports: what they are, how to begin writing them, and most importantly, how they can aid and empower your playtime.

I have only had one scene go really bad with my Master. In all of our years of playing, in all of the trials and errors, in all of the adjustments needing to be made, one. One sideways scene. And it sucked. It took quite some time to move past it and get back playing again. We had to rebuild trust first.

I often think back to the experience and wonder in hindsight if having some previous scene reports to lean on, learn from, if the mistakes during that scene may have been preventable. Moving forward we made a conscious effort to have me journal about our play time as well as the emotional side of Dominance and submission. So let's get into the nitty gritty of it.

What is a scene report and how do I write one?

Simply put, a scene report is a written account of the who, what, when, where, why's of playtime. It can be as straightforward or as frilly as you like; whatever your personal preference in writing is. It should include some sort of detailing of the build up to the scene (things like preparation, advance notification or not, clothing choices, emotional mood), actual logistics of the the scene (tools, timing, environmental factors, emotional mood), an aftercare report (what happened, how it impacted you), and then an after report from a couple days later (how you felt, how the Top felt, what you loved, what you loathed, how it could improve the next time, maybe a ranking system.)

Example of a straightforward scene report:

Date: 10/1/16

Time: 9-11 PM

Partner: Dom D

Place: XYZ Play Party

Plan: Impact scene

Approach: Dom D approached me, asked if I would bottom. I said yes. We sat and negotiated approx 10 min about tools and limits. I was excited to try the St. Andrews cross for the first time. Once it was available we used that station. No bondage, though, which made me more comfortable with a new partner.

Scene: Approx 30 min of impact play. Floggers, crop, and paddle all used. Thuddy flogger my favorite. I did not go to subspace and we had no sexual interaction. Maybe next time I would like a more sexually charged connection with my Top. The impact felt good but left wanting more.

Aftercare: I wrapped up in a towel. Wish I had brought a change of clothes cause it sucked putting a corset back on after play. He got me water and checked in with me a couple times before I left. Felt good.

Final report: Overall a fun scene. I love playing in public and will continue to do so. Thuddy tools for the win. Cross is okay, not as great as I had anticipated. Dom D checked back in, seems like a responsible enough Top but I don't feel like it will go any further relationship wise. He did say he enjoyed it and would Top for me in the future.

Overall: 7/10

Example of a frilly scene report:

It is the first of the month and I couldn't wait to get out of the house. It has been so long since I have played and I need a break so bad after this work week. Looking to let off steam, I check the RSVP list to see who may be going, hoping I can find a Top that might be interested in playing. A few interesting prospects indeed! I wore my favorite corset, got all cleaned up and primped up, and headed out the door. Got to the party about 8, mingled, laughed with some friends, enjoyed being the voyeur for a bit. There were a lot of great scenes happening around me.

Dom D approached me about an hour into the event. I had heard good things about his play style from others and when he asked me if I would like o play I was so thrilled! I couldn't wait to turn my cheeks pink and feel that flood of adrenaline run through me upon impact. We sat down and chatted for a bit, my heart pounding in anticipation, and even though I was so nervous, I told him I wanted to try out the St. Andrews cross for the first time. He said yes!! So we waited for it to be open and we went there, thankfully I didn't get tied to it. I was too nervous playing with a new partner to be stuck there.

He started out really lightly with a flogger, kinda nice, more like he was brushing me with something than "impact." Once he started hitting harder with it, and it became more of a thuddy sensation than a whisper across my bum, I started getting tingly and warmed up sexually. He switched to the crop, which was okay, but I liked the flogger better. Ended with using a wooden paddle. That was HOT. I'd like to try that again too. The cross became uncomfortable at some point. I would have rather been on a spanking bench or over the foot of a bed so I can sort of relax and enjoy without having to be upright.

Afterward (it lasted all of 30 minutes but seemed to go by so fast!) I wrapped up in a towel I brought and went to the bathroom to get dressed again. Damn does it hurt to put a steel boned corset back on after a flogger swinging at my back! Oh, I wish I had thought to bring a comfy dress or something to throw on. Next time, next time. Dom D came to me after I got out of the bathroom and get me some water, checked in on me. That was nice. I can see why he's highly recommended. Drove home fantasizing about getting to subspace one of these days but alas, tonight was not the night.

It's bee a couple days and I remember this scene fondly! The Top was good, checking in a day later, and said he enjoyed the scene as well. The cross was okay, the thuddy flogger was incredible, but overall was left wanting more. More kisses, more touching of naughty bits, more hot sexy words whispered in my ear, more connection. While this was a perfectly lovely night out, I need to continue my search for a Dominant. Until then, play time itches the scratch. Overall, I would give this scene a 7/10.

How to use scene reports to empower play time

There are so many ways this kind of detailed reporting of play can be useful for both casual play experiences as well as in long-term Power Exchange relationships.

Writing this all out is an amazing learning tool for the submissive. You can read about the experience you've had, figure out what worked, what didn't, what you want to try out. You can more clearly express your desires and limits when you can remember what they are.

This is also an amazing learning tool for the Top or Dominant you are playing with. That's right, I encourage you to share this information with your Top! They don't have to read it exactly as you wrote it, but you should sit down a couple days or a week after playing and speak plainly about the experience, this scene report as your notes. It is a way for them to learn and grow along with you. If your Top keeps paddling in the SDS (same damn spot!), he needs to know that that doesn't feel great and brings you out of a good head space. Whether this is your Dominant and you only play together or this is a Top that you will never play with again, it is always good to encourage skill in play time.

This is an amazing learning tool for your relationship. Think about vanilla sex in relationships. The first time isn't always the best, right? You are just learning about each other's bodies, desires, etc. The Same principle applies here. With journaling scene reports, each experience can build off the last. You get to know each other more intimately; adjust for that specific partner.

This is an amazing learning tool for others. If you publicly journal, there are other people growing from your mistakes and successes. One person, one scene report, can bring a stranger or friend to be brave enough to try something new! Or encourage them to be more open in their relationship.

Scene reports can help you understand your own personal limits. If you experience something triggering, harrowing, writing that out will help cement how important that information is to relay to play partners. It is also a safe space to explore those emotions. Like I talked about in the beginning, I feel like our one scene that went sideways could have possibly been prevented had we been doing scene reports regularly all along.

Scene reports can help you understand which of your personal limits to push past. If you are scared of the idea of knife play but it is all you fantasize about when with your partner, that is really great information to write out and think about; communicate to your partner. Maybe it is an unfounded fear that you want to work past. Scene reports are the place to pen these conflicting emotions out.

Having these reports are great for bringing a spark back into long term PE relationships. Being able to go to your Dominant and say, "Remember a few years back? When we played poolside?? (wink, wink) Give this a read and tell me we shouldn't try that again!"

Creating scene reports as a part of your journaling is a powerful tool. It can help you learn about yourself, your play, your desires. It can force you to reflect on your path through submission, of which play can be a vital part of. It can be a way of mapping your growth; tracking your experience. If it has been awhile since you and your partner had a 10/10 scene, it can be a signal to focus on the physical aspect of your relationship. If you are just looking for some fun pick-up play, you can potentially help improve the "pool" of Tops by giving them constructive feedback about their play style and at the same time getting exactly what you are seeking because you can verbalize it.

Just like any other part of journaling, make your scene reports simply a reflection of you: they don't have to be perfectly written or fancy, just honest and real and written.

[arafainsilver]

My thoughts on Rings of Power overall ( season 1&2)

This will be a long post but it has been on my mind all day. At the moment I don't know how to feel about Rings of Power. While I am hyped for a new season I am also really really annoyed at the same time. I think that is mainly having to do with the choices that have been made for both season 1 and season 2. For season 1 for example I just wasn't all that thrilled about the whole Galadriel / Halbrand stuff, not to mention the whole rushing feeling of the rings being forged and the way Galadriel has been shown , yes she is a fierce warrior this literally book canon but she is also known to not trust Annatar and I don't think we will get to see even a slight hint of that in season 2. We certainly did not get that in season 1, the only time I saw her not trusting him is when they were in Eregion after she brought him there. Book Galadriel mind you, did not want anything to do with Annatar/Sauron she was wary of him. The whole absence of Celeborn left a bad taste in my mouth as well. C&G are known to have been together the majority of the time during the second age, they only have ever been seperated in the second age was after S.A. 1600 when Galadriel went to Lorien and Celeborn stayed behind and even that was not for extremely long. I would also have loved to see Gil Galad way more in his king role, Galadriel isn't the main character in the second age, she is not even in the main character in the third age. She has always been a minor character , she doesn't do much in the second age apart from being wary of people, ruling alongside her Husband in Harlindon and Eregion (Mind you it was Celeborn's fiefdom not Galadriel, she is mentioned as his wife there) Now what I did really like was Elronds friendship with Durin and a few parts of the Harfoots I did enjoy, especially the cart rolling down the hill scene had me laughing. With me so far? Alright Season 2 time. While I am thrilled at the prospect of Annatar showing up (despite my objections to his wig and his enormous forehead which is caused by that wig). I can't help but feel like it will all be rushed once more. The visuals looked really good, I got nothing to complain about that , here is my one complaint once more. where is celeborn, the guy who is supposed to hold Sauron off long enough so that Elrond can join his forces with his and they still lose Eregion. Yeah that guy, where is he? the showrunners have apparently made the decision to cut him out of Eregion as well for what we can tell and I am not amused by it. The harfoot plot, I don't know how to feel about it, I think the show should have left it at season 1. The dwarves, could make for an interesting story, I wonder if they will help the elves as is also known by the books that they do so. Last but not least, I read in an interview where one of the showrunners said like that they thought people would like to see Galadriel without husband and child. And I am like no, what people wanted and what people are / were hoping for was a show that lived up to Tolkien books, the backlash and trash/hate the show has gotten is because you had to change so much lore were it was and isn't needed to create a compelling story. I don't mind the POC characters, I don't mind the short hair on elves or that the female dwarves barely have any beards. What I do mind is changing the story... I will be watching season 2 I suppose, I just hope I get a pleasant surprise but my gut feeling is telling me that I will set my self up for annoyance and dissapointment. -

[darkpoisonouslove]

I posted 4,288 times in 2022

588 posts created (14%)

3,700 posts reblogged (86%)

I tagged 4,276 of my posts in 2022

#winx club - 776 posts

#once upon a time - 346 posts

#ouat - 346 posts

#fanart - 337 posts

#ask - 244 posts

#me af - 213 posts

#quote - 206 posts

#anon - 202 posts

#scooby doo - 201 posts

#writing - 174 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#“you should go to that place that you don't even want to think about and i'll come with you bc you have to do everything to find your girl”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Daphne and Domino's Revival

I am so tired of all the complaining about Daphne being brought back to life that is going on in this fandom. Some of the takes I have seen are just fucking outrageous in how utterly wrong they are. And no, I don't like what they did with Daphne's resurrection but to complain that it was a wrong choice or one devoid of potential is incomprehensible to me. The fault lies elsewhere but I'll get to that, too.

60 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

#4

Griffin: Why do I keep you around?

Faragonda: Because the alternative would be developing a conscience of your own.

67 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#3

Icy going "if your skirt shrinks any more, you'd be in trouble" @ Bloom in 3x05 sure sounds like she's mad because Bloom's short skirt is distracting her. Just saying.

80 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#2

Someone had to pick out dragon eggs for Alicent's children and we know that Viserys doesn't care about them. He seemed excited about Aegon at first but even for the son he was expecting from Aemma he didn't pick a dragon egg himself. He left it to Rhaenyra. I can see him asking Alicent and Rhaenyra to pick one together in hopes that it will make Rhaenyra excited about having a sibling but she clearly wasn't thrilled at the prospect so in the end Alicent probably had to pick the dragon eggs for all of her children on her own, with help only from the dragon tamers. So Alicent, who's been scared of dragons all along, would have done her best to learn about dragons so that she can pick the perfect egg for each of her children. I am ✨emotion✨.

80 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I was watching The Scene in 1x07 again because I'm obsessed and it's so obvious that Viserys has no idea how to parent. The only way he can think of making his kids, his family, do what he wants is to throw around his title as king. He does it when he questions Aemond and he later does it when he's "appealing" to - actually ordering - everyone to get along. He's constantly trying to use his political power in a family matter because he's just so powerless in this situation otherwise. No one is listening to him.

117 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

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[plutoswritingplanet]

White Rabbit (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 2

a/n: how close can i get to writing monsterfricking before being called a monsterfricker?

Warnings: NON-CON (nothing too explicit, but still, be warned, be safe), bathroom-donging (once again), extensive use of a 80′s rock song as a plot device

Summary: Vecna’s Curse finally comes to take what’s his. Only thing is, he doesn’t look like the monster your friends described. 

Edit: Y'all are actually insane for giving this fic so many notes. There will be part two, most certainly, after the finale comes out. I will tag everyone in notes and in my askbox. With peace and love, what the fuck

There is a clock, ticking inside your head. It's sound filling every crevice of your brain, seeping into every fiber of your being, rattling every bone in your body until you're unable to move. You know what it means, you've seen what comes after it. The mutilated corpses of a cheerleader and that press kid are burned into your consciousness. Then, Max, floating above the graveyard, her blue eyes rolled grotesquely into the back of her head.

You haven't told anyone, as the team runs around Hawkins, looking for any clues that could help them stop Vecna's Curse.

Speaking of which, you are yet to see the abomination causing your imminent demise. It terrifies you to your very core, but under that overbearing feeling, there is another one. Curiosity. Danger feels heavy on your shoulders, and you love it, the thrill it gives you. Besides, shall things go south, you have a recorder by your side, "White Rabbit" by Jefferson's Airplane recorded on a small cassette, ready for trouble. "You can do this", is a mantra you've been telling yourself for hours now, you can survive.

The Wheeler house is lively with worried chatter, parents lamenting over their kids, in trouble again, and with the Hawkins Police nonetheless. You're sitting in the living room, head hanging low, fingers pulling at the hem of your shirt, which is currently covered in stains of various origin. Moss, mud, some blood, although you don't know where it came from. All the fault will undoubtedly fall on your shoulders. Being the only adult on scene, the only one getting caught. You curse under your breath, thinking of your friends, old and new, currently stuck in the Upside Down. Leaving you to handle everything else on the surface.

It has been a hassle, the interrogation. You got put into a stuffy room with Officer Calahan, who was strangely excited at the prospect of potentially locking up a bunch of kids, for whatever reason. It won't happen, obviously, but you're not here to break his bubble. He asks you questions with an aura of sarcastic authority, giving you patronizing nods, whenever you answer. You want to punch him, not only because your friends are currently in mortal danger, and you could do so much more to help them, if he'd just let you out. There is also the sound of a ticking clock, coming from behind his back, and the suspense drives you insane.

And a spider. Fat and dangerous, it traverses the expanse of the man's shoulder, but when you blink, it's gone.

- Can I use the bathroom? - you ask, voice barely containing all the emotions you were feeling.

The Officer looks at you, startled, as you had just interrupted another one of the monologues. He blinks, as you turn your head, and blinks again, processing your words.

- Yeah - he sounds dumbfounded.

Before the man can say anything more, you bolt out of the room, to the corridor basked in warm light of the ornate chandelier. The ticking is louder here, seemingly just a smidge away from your ear, and slowly, as if not to startle the hallucination, you turn your head left. There, on a cream wall, where normally a lovely family photo of the Wheeler's would hang, you find a round face of a grandfather's clock, staring back at you. One hand comes to life, lazily sliding from one minute to the other, a rusty clank of the mechanism filling your ears. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, as you force your eyes away from the clock.

The world spins around you, as you fall through the bathroom door, closing it behind you. Your hands shake, as you reach for the recorder, fingers fumbling around the headphones you hastily pull over your ears. One click later, and a familiar base enters your brain, the sound of the clock barely recognizable beneath the drums.

- One pill makes you larger - you mutter under your breath, leaning heavily on the sink.

You try to control your breathing, focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest, still muttering the lyrics, like a prayer. The feeling persists, however, and you begin to sway in your place. The mirror shows your disheveled reflection in an almost mocking manner. Hair is sticking to your sweaty face, there are tears framing your eyes, and you're ghastly pale, worryingly so. Unable to focus, you close your eyes, shutting your eyelids tight. trying to block out everything but the music. Specks of light dance beneath your eyelids, and you try to follow their irregular paths, anything to bring you back.

Yet, that ticking sound is persistent, almost impatient. Waiting for the song to end. And with a click of finality, it does. Your heart jumps to your chest, as silence finally engulfs you. Your right hand flies to the Cassette player, fingers immediately finding the rewind button. Your eyes stay shut, as you listen to the whirling of the tape. And the ticking, always the ticking. Finally, it stops. A breath of relief shakes you.

- Don't play it again.

Your eyes fly open, as you give a startled gasp. The bathroom is empty, only your wracked figure reflected in the mirror. But something is wrong, you can feel it at the base of your neck, where the hairs stand up on guard. It doesn't feel like the Upside Down, doesn't look like it too, and yet, you can't shake the ever present sensation of indescribable dread.

Slowly, your fingers skim the play button, the plastic ridges dig into your skin, as you press down.

Then, something catches your hand. Delicately, like it's holding a flower.

You nearly scream, thrashing in the bathroom, turning harshly towards the shower, nails digging into the porcelain edge of the sink. Empty. Nothing.

Your heart stammers out of your chest, blood rushing through your ears in a suffocating display of panic. And the clock keeps ticking.

You're terrified now, properly. Screw all feelings of curiosity from earlier, you're pretty sure you can live without knowing. And so, even more feverishly, you fumble with the recorder, finally hitting the play button so hard, you nearly break your finger. The drums start again, and as the base joins it, you fall to your knees onto the floor, breathing heavily with relief.

- God - you sigh - Why me?

- Why you, indeed...

His voice is barely audible through the music, but you still feel it crushing through your skull. Your body freezes, as you glance up from the floor. There, just centimeters from you, stands a pair of white shoes. At least you think they're white, as the image keeps flickering in and out of existence, like a glitch on a homemade videotape. Your eyes drag up, over slender legs clad in white pants, white shirt tucked into them. Then, you finally see him. An angelic face looking at you from above. Beautiful, blue eyes, sharp features and lovely lips, all surrounded by a halo of blonde waves. An angel, truly.

You blink, and his image shifts out of existence just for a second.

- Who are you? - your voice sounds foreign in your ears, barely recognizable over the music

The man smiles a gentle smile, before kneeling down in front of you. His hands slowly creep towards yours, cradling them in a hold that is so warm and comforting, you want to melt into it without question. His eyes are so incredibly blue, it takes your breath away. And yet, despite the whirlwind of emotions, you can't stop staring into them. The man lifts your joined hands towards his lips. There isn't even a ghost of a breath, fanning your knuckles, as he places a kiss onto the bone. His image shifts again, violently, and a new feeling of slow dread creeps up your spine.

Then, a shadow passes through him, the kind facade falling into something much darker, much more sinister.

- I'm your worst nightmare - he smiles, teeth on full display, sharp and pointy.

You try to free your hands with a  yank, but he holds them close with little to no force, eyes leaving your face in favor of studying the way veins move beneath your skin.

- I have many names - he says, his voice is calm and melodic - Henry - his lips brush the outside of your left wrist - Peter - a swift kiss is placed onto the tips of your finger - One...

He lingers for a bit at the juncture between your thumb and your pointer, and you still feel no breath coming from him.

- Although, the name your friends have given me has a nice ring to it - he looks up, capturing you again with those blue eyes of his.

- Vecna - your voice comes out as a mere whisper, one you can't even hear amongst the song, slowly, but without stopping, coming to an end.

Suddenly, the man stands up, and you feel yourself being pulled up to your feet as well. It's not gentle at all, and you nearly trip, before finding your balance. Faster than you can comprehend, the man turns you around, so you're facing the mirror. You can see him fully now. He's almost a head taller than you, slender and elegant. Not at all the monster you have imagined, not the one Max told you about. He peers at your reflection, towering over you in his clean, white clothes.

- My name means very little to me now - he says again, hand coming up to tuck your hair behind, exposing your neck to him - I am very particular about the names of my victims, however - another smile has you shaking, as his wondering hands press slightly on your pulse.

You can't move, your legs feel heavy, like someone tied them down with rocks. Your heart is beating so fast, you can feel it in your throat, where his fingers drum delicately over your skin, to the beat of the song still keeping you alive.

- Chrissy - he hisses into your hair - Sounds sweet like candy, and in a way, that's how she tasted.

A shiver wrecks your body, as images of the Cheerleader's body flood your mind. Her eyes, sucked into her skull, her limbs in disarray.

- Fred - you can feel his hands on the insides of your arms, fingers dragging over your veins - Intelligent, although slightly tart, like unripe apples.

Your head starts to spin, breaths escaping you in quick puffs. They found Fred in the middle of the road, alone, abandoned, mutilated.

- Patrick - he dips his head into the crook of your shoulder, nose sliding up, towards your ear - Stern, but full of life, reminded me of walnuts.

"When logic and proportion, have fallen sloppy dead" the singer wails, and you know, your time is coming to an end. A small whimper escapes you, as slender arms encircle your frame, pushing your back into his body.

- Max - there is a spark of rage at the mention of your friends name, one, he catches in your reflection with a raised eyebrow - Strong, youthful, like mint. When I heard your name amongst thousands, I knew, you'd taste wonderful.

Your entire body starts to writhe, as the man gives your neck a long lick of his tongue, starting from your shoulder, up to the back of your ear.

- Oooh - he laughs to himself, as you watch him in the mirror, still unable to move - There is some kick to you, I can tell. Like hot peppers.

He dives down again, placing open-mouthed kisses to your feverish skin, teeth just barely scraping your pulse point.

- A name like this should be savored. This guilt you feel should be savored.

"Feed your head" the woman sings, the song swelling in your ears, so close to the end, you start to shake. As if on cue, the man slowly reaches up, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair, as he pushes them under your headphones. It takes one move, for the plastic to fall from your head, clattering to the ground.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as sudden silence engulfs the both of you. There is a victorious smirk playing around on his lips, as his right hands starts to twirl your hair around his finger. He rubs the strands, like he's sampling a fabric, bafore bringing them closer to his nose, and taking a long whiff of air.

- ...Or maybe cinnamon - me sighs, eyebrows scrunching together.

- Are you going to kill me now?

Again, images of broken bones and mutilated corpses fill your mind, you can almost imagine the wet cracking.

The man laughs, stepping away from your trembling body for just an inch, the loss of his body behind you makes you sway in place. There's this weird flickering glitch running over his figure, intensifying for a moment. He takes a long breath, you can see muscles work under any visible sliver of skin, and as he relaxes again, his form stabilizes.

That is when you realize, what you're looking at isn't real. He isn't real. This angelic, terrifying boy is just an illusion, a hallucination, meant to lull you into a false sense of security. And it almost works. Almost, because as you focus more on his eyes, they seem to become less blue, and more milky and veiny. More like a monster.

- Guilt is a fickle thing - his voice is lower, more raspy than before.

His head dips down behind you, and he plants a wet kiss to the base of you neck, teeth scraping against your skin in a way, that wrenches a whine out of your lips.

Your stomach churns with a feeling sitting too close to arousal, as his large hands begin to explore your body further.

- It never leaves, not truly. And you have so much of it. - a hand digs itself into your hip, then slides up, leasing the edge of your shirt.

- Stop.

He doesn't, fingers creeping under the fabric, squeezing the soft tissue there.

- You're supposed to protect your brother, but he keeps getting hurt on your watch. How many bones does he have to break? How many times have you failed him?

Tears spring to life in the corners of your eyes, as you try to turn away from your reflection. He's faster though, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look back to the mirror. Then, he cranes your chin to the side, forcefully, so that your face is closer to him.

- Those kids you've taken under your wing, I will devour them all, and you'll watch - he seems unmoved by your sobs, whispering the words into your wet cheek - Your father, poor father, never had the chance of seeing how much of a disappointment you really are.

His lips are soft as he kisses your tears away, tasting the saltiness with a grin. Like a chef, proud of his most delicious meal.

- I see it all, sweetness - the hand digging into your stomach climbs up, over your ribs, stopping just short of the underside of your breast.

- Please... - a choked sob escapes you, as your body tries to free itself from his iron hold.

- Shhh - he shushes you, you can't feel his breath on your lips, when he gives you a chaste kiss.

For that matter, you can't feel anything, that would suggest you're being held by a living being. There is no rise and fall to his chest, no smell, no heartbeat.

His form starts to flicker yet again, and suddenly, you feel something definitely not human sliding and swirling behind you. A constantly moving mass holds you in place and instinctively, you screw your eyes shut. You don't want to know how he looks like in reality, mind focusing back on the angelic man from before. Now, you can feel him breath, a low rumble starts in his gut everytime he inhales, like a beast ready to pounce.

- It takes - the voice coming from behind you is gruff and monstrous - A considerable amount of strength to keep this image in place.

Slowly, with every word, the man's voice comes back to the normal, melodic tone. The shifting mass on your back seizes its movements, and slowly, you allow yourself to crack an eye open.

Blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a halo of blonde hair stare back at you in the mirror's reflection. He gives out a small chuckle, shakes his head slightly, and bends down to take another long sniff of your hair.

- There's no need for you to see my real form - he mutters into the crown of your head - After all, it's not your fear I'm after.

His hands move with unexpected speed, as the both slide upwards, under your shirt, to cup roughly at your breasts. The sound you give out is pathetic at best, as this sliver of friction sets your whole body ablaze.

- It's your guilt - he forces out through his teeth, giving your breasts another sharp squeeze.

Before you have the time to actually understand the implications behind his words, you body is being pressed forwards. The ceramic edge of the sing digs painfully into the meat of your thighs, but the feeling is swallowed completely by a slender hand worming it's way into your pants.

Your entire body rocks back and forth, as the man, Peter, Vecna, plunges two long digits into you without warning.

You feel a raw whine climb out of your throat, as you clench around his fingers, hands flailing at your sides, looking for any sort of purchase. He lets you lean on him completely, one hand massaging your breast, before abandoning it in favor of gripping your pulse.

He works you steadily and greedily, pulling sounds out of you, you'd have never imagined were possible. It feels sick, your stomach tightens into a growing coil, as the rythmic pumping shakes you to your bones.

- I...please - your words come out slurred, as your vision swims around your head.

He chuckles, seemingly unaffected, and presses his thumb down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. The sudden jolt of pleasure wrenches a scream out of you, one, he swallows, forcefully craning his neck, and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss hurts, plain and simple. His lips, despite being pillowy soft, bite into yours with force you've never experienced in your life. Then, teeth appear, raking abused flesh, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. It's too much, the whole thing starts to feel less like a nightmare, and more like an execution.

Your lungs scream for more oxygen, the tightening in your stomach accompanied by the sharp pain in your chest. And just when you truly think, this is how you are going to die, something entirely unexpected happens.

"One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small"

The song enters your brain like a dose of adrenaline, waking you from your stupor. Immediately, the hand toying with your insides, retracts, leaving you unfulfilled and disappointed. The emptiness carries, as his mouth detach from yours. You can't open your eyes, you refuse to do so, too overwhelmed to see.

- Remember this - the man says into your ear, his words slowly being drowned out by music - Remember this feeling, when I come for you again.

With that, you're being released, your limp body falling down onto the floor, where you're met with gentle hands of your friends cradling you.

- Jesus, we though you were a goner! - Lucas nearly screams in your face, as you try your best to focus on the kid's features.

- Yeah! You were flying under the ceiling - Dustin shoves a finger up, and your glazed eyes follow, looking at an unidentified spot above your head.

- Why didn't you tell us? - Max is gripping your shoulders so hard, you're sure it will leave a mark.

The kids, your kids, look at you with terrified faces, as you try to stand up, bones heavy, muscles trembling with unresolved tension.

- Didn't want to worry you guys...

It's a weak excuse, and right now you're not even sure if it's true. Dustin mutters something about you being an adult idiot, and in your heart you can't disagree with him.

- Just - Max slowly let's go of your arm - Keep the headphones on.

With that, the gang makes their way out of the bathroom, you following right after them. The coil in your stomach dies down, and with it, new, overbearing feeling arises in your chest.

Guilt. Crushing guilt of wanting something so wrong you can never recover from it.

And beneath the familiar drums, and the voice, and the guitar, you hear a gentle sound of a ticking clock.