#alice in chains facts

[junkh3ad]

I think about this fact so often, it makes me so sad.

[jarofalicesgrunge]

AiC

📸by Martyn Goodacre

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned that when the other members of Alice in Chains wanted Layne Staley to be their lead singer, they started auditioning terrible singers in front of him to send a hint. The last straw for him was when they auditioned a male stripper. Staley joined the band as their lead singer after that (x)

[autopsy-angel]

bought an Alice in Chains tapestry n a purple comforter :3

[bugsbenefit]

i made a post entertaining the Alice-Karen theory before and i still don't know where i stand on believing it. i thought it was a complete crack theory that's just straight up disprovable by canon going into it but the insane number of odd things somehow supporting it, which i apparently never payed attention to before rewatching s4, weird me out (you can also extend it back to further seasons if you genuinely want to buy into it)

i really don't like the "and they're Related!" twist usually so i don't have a particular bias towards the theory being true. but i wanted to check it out for fairness sake to give it a chance (personal preference aside) and now i don't know what i think anymore. it's like. there's some very good arguments you can make against it. but there's also a weird amount of things that DO imply something is going for which we don't have an explanation for yet

but no matter if Karen is actually Alice

i do genuinely believe something was incomplete about Both the flashbacks to the Creel murders we saw. Victors AND Henry's version. because the story we're ultimately shown by Henry makes sense on a surface level but it also directly contradicts the timeline of events it's trying to lay out to us. Henry is either specifically leaving something out when talking to Nancy that would explain the hole in the timeline he subtly leaves OR Henry is Also an unreliable narrator because he genuinely thinks he's telling the true story like Victor did as well

i'm quite ambivalent to the Wheeler-Creel theories but i DO have thoughts on it after looking into it (i'm going to actually make posts about that at some point. arguing for and against it probably). but regardless of whether Karen is actually Alice. Something is sure going on with Alice Creel. even if she ends up being a random girl, s4 was definitely not the last we heard about her with the story we were left

[zukkaoru]

it's all "must a book have a plot? is it not enough to just write about vibes?" until nathaniel hawthorne writes a 300+ page novel based entirely on haunted house vibes. then it's suddenly "too long winded" and "nothing happens" and he "took 300 pages to say something that could have been said in 40"

[abodyfarm]

your weapon is guilt btw

[spaceradars]

one of the things i love the most about writing a story/potential book about bands/music is that i literally put all of my interests there. i couldn't do this if i didn't asdfgfdsa

[stylishanachronism]

Anyway now that I’ve finished Alan wake 2 and sat on it for about a week, I suspect the reason I came out of it distinctly :/ (and why that seems to be the prevailing theme with reviewers) is twofold:

First (and less importantly) there wasn’t enough music

Second (and more seriously), for a game explicitly about the specific brand of horror that encapsulates haunted houses and Scheherazade’s telling stories until she told the story of how she escaped her own death, it really didn’t want to acknowledge that the heart of that fear is love.

[macabresymphonies]

(minor TMA spoilers and general TMAGP spoilers) Having so much time to think about incidents in TMAGP due to hiatus made me realize that all of them, to some degree, contain the theme of "sealing your own fate" or "consequences of greed/hubris".

You see, while I do not believe that TMA had a consistent theme every statement was based on, the overall messege seemed to be that horrors are inevitable. Once you've been marked you cannot escape, no amount of therapy or running can release you from it. I think Michael Crew is the best example of that:

"The thing that chased me, you see, it was an arcing branch of the Twisting Deceit, taken shape to follow me. (...) And I knew within that book was something that could not only release me from my pursuer, but chain my being to that rush of wind and vertigo forever." Michael Crew in "The Coming Storm"

You cannot escape it once you've been marked, only bind yourself to different one and this marking is, most often than not, nonconsensual. Jane Prentiss would run around and infect random people, Not!Them didn't need anybody to come to them before it was sealed and Peter Lukas also tended to just disappear random people just to feed. The fears were very predatorial and active and the victims were selected based on their own fears and anxieties. This is not to say there weren't victims who failed due to their own curiosity/hubris/greed, but I think it's telling that few of the most greedy/curious people in the series, Mikaele Salesa and Jurgen Leitner, stayed largely uncorrupted by the fears not cause they avoided interacting with them, but simply avoided getting marked by them.

Now we come to protocol and every incident so far has the main subject of that incident actively engage with the horror and have one or multiple points at which they could stop and leave, but they do not. Daria went to the tattoo shop on her own accord, Harriet wanted her husband back no matter what and even Dr Webber was described to be able to leave the garden whenever he wanted, but, due to hiding from authorities, chose to stay until it was too late for him. Every incident so far seems to have this theme of consent, characters detailing very clearly that consent was given to engage with the abnormality:

"Ah well that’s a tricky one. Sort of? In many ways he stabbed himself on me. By the time he saw the needles we were already very close. Close enough to smell his sweat and cheap aftershave. In fact, he barely had time to be afraid before we embraced. He’s terrified now of course…" Needles in "Introductions"

"The young man's interview was not exceptional as he had no experience in charity work, no driving license nor any demonstrable experience in retail. He claimed however, to know the Hilltop Centre better than anyone and as he was the only applicant in the role I elected to give him a try." Dianne Margolis in "Give and Take"

"I hesitated a moment but before I could consider her strangeness a particularly high tide of color swept down the corridor toward me. I panicked, and before I realized what I was doing I had darted inside the lift and slammed the close-door button." Terrance Stevens in "Running on Empty"

It does not matter some of these are under duress or deception, all of them contain some type of action "confirming" consent. Mind you I do not believe all the victims of of these horrors confirm consent in some way, like people who get killed by Bonzo probably didn't agree to it (though considering he's most likely a hitman, some degree of "you agreed to this by overstepping your boundaries" philosophy could be applied), but subjects of the incident very much pay for consequences of their own actions.

That brings us to OIRA itself, and how every character so far seems to actively dig themselves deeper by their own accord, Gwen wants position of power, Colin wants to figure out the system, Sam wants to know why he wasn't chosen and Alice is in it for the money (for her brother which still counts as consent). This is literally said directly to us in episode 1:

"If you hate working here so completely, you are perfectly within your rights to resign. No one is forcing you to stay here." Lena to Gwen in "First Shift"

All of this, all this horror is happening due to their own accord, curiosity, obligation, greed for knowledge or just for the money, it does not matter, the choice is there, but they delve deeper anyway. We will see how long it holds up, but I will be on the look out for this theme in the future.

[jarofalicesgrunge]

ALICE IN CHAINS First studio Ep

the three-track EP we die young was released in the summer of 1990

About the concept:

The first photo shoot took place on the afternoon of Wednesday, May 2, 1990, at the swimming pool of the Oakwood Apartments in Burbank. To execute the idea of ​​the band emerging from an eyeball, the pool was covered with a thin layer of plastic. The members had to swim under the plastic, rise to the surface and breathe in as they emerged. " The plastic distorted the faces , and I got some great and monstrous images with the first roll of film , " Schenck wrote . They experimented with various ideas, including an image of Layne wrapped in plastic while the other members held him, which was used as the cover art for the single for "We Die Young".

{We die young}

Credits by the untold story book..

[angelsworks]

Yandere!Edward Cullen x popular! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Request: Nope

Summary : After moving to a new school Edward Cullen finds his mate at the top of the social good chain.

Warnings: Controlling nature, yandere themes, high school.

This must have been some sort of joke by Alice. When she said she’d seen his mate Edward was over the moon; more than that, he was floating in space. Far above the moon in fact, closer to the Milky Way. After being alone for so long, finally finding his mate was a godsend.

What Alice seemed to leave out was the fact that you were the most popular person at forks high school, maybe even the most popular person in forks.

A week late (Y/N) arrived at Forks High school. The brightest smile he’d ever seen adorned your face, eyes full of stars. It was easy to see why everyone was so entranced by you.

You spoke to everyone, which might have sounded exaggerated, but Edward had seen you. Whatever social status these students had didn’t matter. Any reason to say hello and you did.

By the end of the day you’d told their whole year why you were a week late, some wildlife retreat in the mountains.

At lunch you sat with your main group, being the main entertainment for them all. Whether it was through an entertaining joke or some personal opinions you were sharing.

Throughout that first week he stayed back and watched you as they floated around school. To him you were an Angel. You were kind to everyone and he hadn’t heard you say a bad thing yet.

But he was getting angsty. You were either talking to someone else or being pestered by admirers for him to make his introduction. It got to a point where Emmet was teasing him at his inability to talk to his own mate.

The pull towards you was undeniable. Your scent would calm him, your voice would lull him into an impossible sleep, your thoughts came as brief flashes but were so interesting and whimsical.

Everything about you was perfect to him.

He wasn’t the only one who thought that unfortunately. He could count twenty people at least who thought about you romantically. He has the awful pleasure of hearing their every thought. The only resolve he has was listening to your own, brief as they were they weren’t filled with them.

His salvation came in the middle of week two in the form of a seating plan. Many of the teachers had realised that students couldn’t be trusted to sit with friends so they made seating plans.

Seeing as Edward was new for the most part the teachers assumed you two hadn’t met yet. It was this very thought that lead to him being sat with you for five lessons out of the many others.

It was here in an English class he could finally say hello.

For the first time since he’d seen you he could feel his dead heart beat as you spoke to him. Your smile lighting your face, eyes twinkling, thoughts filled with flashes of him.

It didn’t last long before your attention was taken from him and on to someone else. It wasn’t necessarily the other persons fault. You were just so bubbly, too bubbly if that’s possible.

It didn’t stop his thoughts from turning jealous and hateful. You were his mate not that you knew it and your attention should be on him.

In the next lesson he shared he convinced you to sit with him and his family at lunch. Telling you that they were all really shy and hadn’t spoke to many people yet. Of course that was how they wanted it.

You more than happily agreed, explaining that ordinarily you would have welcomed them yourself, but you were away and no one told you. You’d been too preoccupied with being in your own little human world.

The Cullens all made an effort to smile and act as human as possible. They even took bites out of the previously untouched food on their trays.

Not that you noticed. You happily chatted about the school and all the best things about it, from the inside scoop on teachers to the clubs on offer.

You asked your own set of questions to, about their home life and family. About doctor and Mrs cullen. Where they’d been before.

After that day you’d gone back to sitting with your friends. You’d smiled every time you saw any of the Cullens, Edward included. But it wasn’t enough. Not for Edward. He wanted to be more than just someone you smiled at. He felt like any other person in the hall; not your mate.

At this point he was feeling drastic, not that it was unheard of for him to be. He called upon his siblings for help.

From that point while you spoke to your friends a feel of boredom filled your being. It could have been the funniest story in the world; but it just felt mediocre.

After a couple of weeks you started to feel really bad. You didn’t understand why you were being such a bad friend.

Jasper told Edward about this adding to his own suspicions from reading your mind. He asked Jasper to further help him out.

Edward made more of an effort to catch you alone. And Jasper made an effort to fill you with so much joy during that time, that it became undeniable you enjoyed Edward’s company more.

Soon you were having lunch with the reclusive Cullens more. Along with sitting with Edward in classes and hanging out after school. It all became very Edward centred, which is what he wanted.

Through no fault of your own you’d isolated yourself from your friends, from everyone. One planned to confront you about it. Alice however saw this in her visions, telling Edward who convinced Rosalie to be especially mean to that friend.

It didn’t stop them though. When they came to you to tell you how mean Rosalie had been, you didn’t believe them. Telling them she’d only ever been nice to you and everyone else. You brushed them off, causing them to get annoyed. Calling you out on your distance.

It made you highly upset. Giving Edward a chance to get closer to you. He was able to hold you as you cried and his heart swelled.

His plans had worked extremely well. So well in fact that it was easy getting you to accept his offer to take you out on a date. From there your relationship only grew.

That one friend kept interfering though. Edward brushed them off, telling you it was natural to spend more time with a partner and that they were just jealous.

When they kept being an issue for your relationship Edward decided to take it into his own hands. He took care of that friend. He was careful not to do anything that will alter his amber eyes.

You were heartbroken of course, to hear that they’d disappeared in the woods. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. But saddening none the less.

His family had their suspicions, but they valued his happiness over his moral ambiguity.

Eventually Edward decided to tell you about his vampiric nature. It went down well of course with Jasper’s help.

Any chance of you leaving was seen by Alice, your moods were controlled by Jasper and Edward has a keyhole view into your mind.

He decides not to tell you about their gifts just yet.

Not until your turned and by his side forever.

[the-daily-dreamer]

I think the love that Rhaenys gets is kind of insane when you really look at her as a character. Because frankly she is insanely hypocritical and selfish.

Rhaenys is incredibly passive in her behaviors and essentially dedicates her life to make her husband happy. Which is totally fine and her choice…except for the fact that she insults Alicent for serving the men in her life and belittles her for it.

She willingly offers up her 12 year old child to a creepy older man to get her blood on the throne and to please her husband by getting his blood on the throne. Which is just as bad (arguably worse than) Otto offering up his 15 year old. So if you hate him, hate Rhaenys.

She kills a bunch of small folk without a care simply to show off that she’s powerful and better and can’t be chained down. And I’m sorry, if you hated Cersei for blowing up the sept (as her one and only option to survive) and the smallfolk in and around it…you can’t support Rhaenys caving the walls in on a bunch of people for no reason.

And really consider this. In the case of Otto, everyone hates him for plotting to get his daughter to marry Viserys and then get his grandchildren on the throne over Rhaenyra. But if Viserys had taken the ludicrous offer from Rhaenys to marry her 12 year old daughter…do you think she and her husband would’ve accepted Rhaenyra as heir? Obviously not. If Viserys married Laena and had sons with her, Corlys and Rhaenys would’ve been the #1 supporters of the “Rhaenyra isn’t the heir” brigade. They’d have used all their power to intimidate Viserys until he changed his mind, and if he didn’t…as soon as Viserys would die, they’d have their grandson on that iron chair faster than you can say “Rest in Peace”.

The only reason she supports Rhaenyra now is because of the marriage between the strong boys and her granddaughters. And the concept of her husbands “blood” being on the throne in name.

You can’t convince me in any way that Rhaenys is in any way a girlboss or feminist. What she is a hypocritical woman who, if the circumstances were different, would place herself and her family above Rhaenyra in a heartbeat. Lord knows she tried.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Two

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.8k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Alicent's birthday dinner proves to be eventful in more ways than one.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She flops down onto the sofa next to her flatmate, once safely back inside, huffing a dramatic sigh and replaying in her mind the mortifying moment that Aemond refused her kiss.

Mysaria takes out her earphones and closes her laptop, turning to her with a smirk. “So, sugar baby, how was your evening?”

“Shit.” She shoots back, dipping a hand into the open crisp bag that sits between them and taking a few.

“Let me guess, didn’t look anything like his picture?”

She shakes her head, speaking around a mouthful of crisps. “Exactly like his picture. I tried to kiss him and he said no.”

“Sounds like a win to me.” Mysaria says with a shrug. “If you can get away with not doing that sorta stuff and still get the money then you absolutely should.”

She sighs. Therein lies the problem, with Aemond she wants to do that sort of stuff.

The rest of the weekend passes by uneventfully, with no further word from Aemond, no matter how hard she wills for it as she stares at their existing text chain.

She has to suppress a strangled sounding squeal on Monday when he texts her while she’s at work. Her hand flies to her phone the moment she sees his name light up her screen with a buzz.

Are you working today?

She is almost embarrassed at the speed with which she replies.

I am. Why?

She feels her breath hitch as his response comes instantly.

I’ll swing by at lunch time.

She’s unable to concentrate for the rest of the morning, too nervous to focus on anything other than the fact that she’ll be seeing Aemond in a few hours. The time passes painfully slowly and she feels as though she’s anxiously drummed her fingers on every available surface until finally it’s noon.

She spots him in the foyer as she heads downstairs. He is instantly recognisable; taller than almost everyone, the top half of his pale hair is pulled back from his face in a bun, while the rest hangs loose around his shoulders. His fitted black shirt is rolled up to the elbows and paired with a well tailored pair of suit trousers and expensive looking dress shoes.

He gives her his subtle trademark smirk when he sees her and she immediately feels self conscious under the intensity of his gaze.

“Thanks for giving up your lunch break for me.” He says after she’s greeted him. “I figured it would make our story more believable if I’d actually seen you at work. We’re bound to get asked questions at dinner on Wednesday.”

“Oh…sure, no problem.” She feels herself deflate a little upon hearing that this isn’t a visit because he simply wants to see her.

“I brought you a little something, guessing you haven’t had lunch yet?”

He hands her a thick, white box that has ‘Cédric Grolet’ inscribed in gold lettering. It’s a bakery she’s read about in Time Out Magazine, but never visited. In her opinion, anyone willing to spend six pounds on a croissant has more money than sense. She opens the box, her eyebrows raising in surprise as she looks at the delicate pastry inside.

“You brought me a custard tart.” She meets his eye with a grin.

Aemond scoffs. “Parisian flan, actually.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks heat up as she holds his gaze. “I’ll eat this later. Don’t want to risk it around the exhibits.”

He nods, a mixture of amusement and something she can’t quite place evident in his eye as he looks at her. “Shall we then?” He gestures for her to lead the way.

She guides him around the museum and she is impressed with the depth of his knowledge as he tells her what he knows regarding Ancient Egypt and Greek history. Likewise, he pays rapt attention when she explains the timeline of the Vikings and Saxons, asking relevant questions and nodding enthusiastically as she answers.

For the first time in a long time she feels genuinely listened to when she speaks about the subject she’s so fiercely passionate about. It’s nice to have someone take an interest. The conversation flows easily and all too quickly an hour slips by.

“I should let you get back to work.” Aemond tells her, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “I need to get back to Vhagar anyway.”

“Vhagar?”

“Yeah.” Aemond says, and for the first time since they met, his face lights up with genuine happiness. “She’s my doberman. She’s getting on a bit, so I try not to leave her with the dog walker for too long if I can help it.”

She feels herself melt a little at this admission. As if he wasn’t already perfect, he was an animal lover to top it all off.

He’s quick to compose himself, clearing his throat and returning to his stoic demeanour. “Anyway, I’ll pick you up at six on Wednesday, okay?”

She nods and they wave goodbye to each other. She heads back to work, a slight spring in her step for having seen Aemond. She can’t believe how much they have in common, smiling to herself as she wonders when she’ll get to meet Vhagar.

She’s brought crashing back to reality when her phone buzzes with a text from Aemond.

For working through your lunch break.

It’s immediately followed by a notification from her banking app. A one thousand pound deposit from A. Targaryen.

She knows she should feel elated by the money, but it’s a sobering reality check. He’s not your boyfriend, this is transactional.

When she arrives home from work on Wednesday afternoon, she is overwhelmed by the idea of having to get ready for Alicent’s birthday dinner. There is no way she can reuse the dress from Jace and Baela’s engagement party, and everything else in her wardrobe feels far too casual for a family as high end as the Targaryens.

She’s distracted momentarily when she catches sight of a package sitting on the kitchen side.

“Parcel on the side for you!” Mysaria calls out from her bedroom.

“I see it, thanks!” She shouts back, working to remove the packaging.

Inside is a Cartier box, with a note; ‘Would really like you to wear this to dinner - A.’

“Well, then, what is it?” Mysaria asks, creeping up behind her and resting her head on her shoulder. “It arrived this morning and I’ve resisted the temptation to open it all day!”

She gasps as she opens the box. A white gold necklace inlaid with diamonds, and a single sapphire at its center, rests inside.

Mysaria lets out a low whistle. “You could sell that and put down a deposit on a bloody house!”

She rolls her eyes. “I think he intends for me to wear it, not sell it. But what the fuck am I going to put it with? It’s going to look like I’ve put tinsel on shit!”

An hour later, having rummaged through Mysaria’s wardrobe, she’s finally ready, having paired a long sleeved, silky button down top with a faux leather skirt. Simple enough for a casual dinner, yet dressy enough to compliment the completely over the top jewelry that now sits around her neck.

Aemond arrives and is ever the gentleman, opening the passenger side door for her as she climbs into his car. Her eyes linger a little too long on the way his expertly tailored suit hugs his body. Thankfully, his attention is focused entirely on her throat, so he doesn’t notice.

“Necklace looks good.” He says buckling his seatbelt. “We’ll have to do something at some point about the rest of it though.”

Her mouth gapes open in shock. “What’s wrong with my outfit?!”

He reaches across, rubbing the material of her top between his thumb and forefinger. “Polyester.”

The touch of his fingers in such close proximity to her skin makes her feel so light headed that she can’t find it in herself to be offended. Wordlessly, he starts the car.

“So, I should brief you on what you’re getting into before we arrive.” Aemond glances over at her as he drives. “It's my mother's birthday. She won’t have cooked, she never does; she’ll have ordered Thai food. Her partner, Criston, will be there, so will my brother, Aegon, and my sister, Helaena. There’ll also be my half sister, Rhaenyra.”

She doesn’t miss how Aemond tenses up as he speaks of Rhaenyra. She can’t help but feel panicked at how intimate of an affair this will be, especially as this is only her second date with Aemond, if date is even the right word for it.

“What about the rest of your family that were at the engagement party?”

“Most of the people there were not anyone I’d consider family. My grandfather’s away on business and ‘Nyra knows better than to bring her boys. Mum won’t want them there. None of us do.”

The grip that Aemond has on the steering wheel tightens and his jaw clenches. She decides not to push the subject any further, it’s clearly a touchy one and she simply doesn’t know him well enough to pry. The rest of the drive passes in silence.

The townhouse they pull up outside of is lavish, a blanket of green ivy covers the outside. Aemond is quick to take her hand as they walk up the path to the front door. Her heart races at the feel of it, and she has to battle to remind herself that it’s all for show.

Alicent gives them both a warm welcome, pulling them into a tight hug with a kiss on both cheeks. She looks radiant as ever as she leads them through to a large dining room, with a long mahogany table at the center of it.

Helaena jumps up as soon as she sees them, giving them both a hug, while Aegon opts to remain seated, making a mock salute as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

Aemond was right about the Thai food, as Criston enters shortly after they arrive, carrying several paper bags from a place called Patara and places them in the middle of the table.

Aemond pulls out a chair for her and she takes a seat, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily as he presses his lips to her temple. A shiver runs through her.

“Get me a fork, would you, Hel? I’ll be here all fucking night trying to eat with chopsticks.” Aegon says, leaning forward to rummage in a bag.

“It’s Thai food, you eat it with a spoon, not chopsticks!” Helaena shoots back.

“That’s not a fork though, is it?” He rolls his eyes exasperatedly, pulling out tubs and setting them down. “Get me a fork!”

“Get your own fork, dick.” She fires back.

“Will you two stop it?!” Alicent hisses. “I just want one family dinner without an argument. Rhaenyra isn’t even here yet, stop opening the food. Aegon!”

She hurries from the room as the doorbell rings.

The mood around the table shifts. She notices Aemond rubbing his fingers together absentmindedly, his teeth grinding ever so slightly. Without thinking, she reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, shooting her an appreciative look.

Rhaenyra sweeps into the room, looking glamorous. Her long, light hair is pulled into an intricate braid and a pair of teardrop ruby earrings hang delicately from her lobes.

“Apologies for my lateness.” She says with a tight smile. “Difficult to be on time when you have to make separate dinner plans for the side of the family that aren’t welcome.”

“Oh god, she’s started already.” Drawls Aegon. “Come on, who had ‘as soon as she arrives’ in the sweepstake for when ‘Nyra would start her bitching?”

“Aegon!” Alicent scolds him, her brown eyes widened with anger. Her face softens as she turns back to Rhaenyra. “Ignore him, I’m so pleased you could make it.”

The two women exchange a warm embrace before taking their seats.

The meal passes in relative high spirits, in spite of its awkward start. Expensive red wine is shared around the table, as they all dig into dishes of soft shell crab mango salad, chicken massaman and vegetable pad thai. 

Alicent asks her more about her line of work, while Aemond interjects that he’d dropped by to surprise her with lunch. This little anecdote is met with excited coos from both his mother and sister.

He plays the part of attentive boyfriend perfectly. Dishing out food onto her plate, feeding her from his fork and placing his hand on her knee at regular intervals. The longer it goes on for, the more difficult it becomes for her to remember that it’s all an act. The way her body responds to his touch is certainly not for show, however; there is no pretending when it comes to the gooseflesh left in the wake of his hand on her skin.

As the meal is drawing to its end, Rhaenyra sits back in her chair, running her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. “So, I was planning on making a gift of Dragonstone Cottage to Jace and Baela, since they’ll be needing a place to live together once they’re married.”

“That’s not yours to give away.” Aemond tells her, staring at her with an intensity that’s almost frightening.

“Father didn’t name an owner in his will. Technically, as first born, everything goes to me.” She says with an offhand shrug.

“That’s such bullshit!” Aegon seethes, over the rim of his glass.

“Don’t.” Criston warns. “You’ll upset your mother.”

“Maybe this is best talked about another time.” Alicent says, shooting an apologetic look around the table.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it, Mum? You never want to talk about it and she always gets her own way, just like when Dad was alive.” Aegon says, his voice raising an octave with every word.

“Oh, I think you’ve gotten far more than what is owed to you.” Rhaenyra glares at him.

Aemond slams his fist on the table, causing everyone to startle. He stands abruptly, storming from the room.

She isn’t sure of where to look, she has never felt more uncomfortable in her entire life than she does right now. The atmosphere around the dinner table is horribly strained and she is suddenly glad of the opportunity to play up to her part of concerned girlfriend in order to get away from it.

“I’ll…um…I’ll just go and see where he’s gone.” She says shakily, eager to get away from the sour, sullen faces that now surround her.

She finds Aemond stood outside in the back garden, leaning against the railing of the patio decking as he smokes a cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” He responds, taking another drag.

“Anything in there that you wanted to talk about?” She offers meekly.

“I don’t pay you enough for that.” He sighs.

Her face falls slightly at this. Each reminder of what their relationship really is is like a punch to the gut. She leans against the railing, placing her hand next to his.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry. If you ever do need to talk though, I’m happy to listen.”

Aemond flicks the cigarette away, crushing it under foot. “I just…just once it would be nice to feel appreciated.”

“I appreciate you.” She tells him honestly, her little finger stroking over his as she stares up at him.

His face softens as he looks down at her and for the first time since she stepped outside she feels like he is seeing her, really seeing her. His hand moves from the railing to brush her hair away from her face and as his eye moves from hers to her lips, she leans up and presses them to his. This time he doesn’t stop her.

He tastes of cigarettes and red wine, it’s a heady combination, intensified by the plushness of his lips. All too soon, he is pulling away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that.” He admits.

“But I wanted to.” She pleads earnestly.

He wraps his arms around her then, one hand clutching desperately between her shoulder blades, as the other buries itself in her hair. He kisses her like he is a man starved of oxygen and he needs her to breathe. She whimpers as she feels his tongue work itself against her own. Nobody has ever kissed her like this before, it makes her head swim and heat lick at her lower belly.

“Go to dinner with me on Friday.” He says breathlessly, once their lips part. “Just me and you.”

“I’d love to.” She whispers.

[its-your-mind]

alright fuck this I’m making a TIMELINE. and a FACT SHEET. it will not be in order. Nor will it actually track dates really. Mostly it’s going to contain the seeds of my theories. I’m red stringing this Shit via tumblr post on mobile.

TIMELINE:

Magnus Institute fire: 1999

Windows NT 4.0 (the Windows NT that was the commercial predecessor to Windows 95) was released to retail in 1996 (with the final version released in 2001) so Freddy has been creeping around the web since around the time the Institute burned down

Jon, Martin, and probable Jonah Norris, Chester, and Augustus started actively reading roughly 1/30 statements entries out loud ~a year ago, according to Alice

Statements Entries so far are dated to May 2022, and it’s implied that Freddy collects them more or less as they appear, so as far as rough estimates for when tmp is set, it’s nowish, or just a bit earlier than now (similar to how tma was)

My kingdom for an ARG player who can hook me up with the founding date of the OIAR and the dates on those Magnus Institute records, just cuz I’m curious

SHIT WE KNOW:

Jonah Magnus exist(s/ed) in SOME form in this world, and built an institution designed to research the paranormal. That institution burned down and cleared of all records. Unclear exactly when the clearing happened.

The voices in the computer are the same as Martin Blackwood’s and Jonathan Sims’s

The OIAR has a department (this one) dedicated entirely to sorting weird shit scraped from online with an obsessive specificity

Everyone who works in this department wasn’t forced to be here and isn’t forced to stay, but all of them do have something that guided them to this position and is keeping them here

There is supernatural shit happening here in this world right now

Annabelle Cane said that the rift under Hilltop Road was a rift in reality - time, space, dimensions

She also said that the Fears would be following the voices that were woven into the web made of the tapes

In the TMA-verse, the Fears had a penchant for spreading themselves around via books (and then someone stupid idiot motherfucking dusty ass book collecting rat old bastard avatar of the whore biggest clown in the circus cowboy— starting slapping a label on em

SHIT THAT IS STILL A ???:

Did the fears exist in this world for an extended period of time, or have they only recently appeared? All the dates we have for statements entries are recent, but there was at the very least some FUCKED UP SHIT happening before the jmart+Jimmy Magma squad popped up

Did Robert Smirk build batshit crazy buildings and also a panopticon under London?

Was Magnus fear-aligned? Was the Institute? Or was it just a place for fucked up research?

Are there alternate-reality versions of any beloved TMA recurring cast members running about?

Was the og TMA world the place where the Fears started? Or had they already spread?

How far have they made it at this point? Is this the first new world post-archives-crew? Or are we several down the chain?

COLLECTION OF FACTS INTO BATSHIT THEORIES:

The Fears have been Updated for the Twentieth (not twenty-first, rip to Colin) Century and now they have infused themselves into computer systems via Jon’s tapes letting them encode themselves in a new and fun way (I am not 100% sure how tapes work besides magnets somehow, but I DO know that early computers used them for data tracking, which makes enough dream-logic sense for me) and are thus able to hack themselves into forum posts and also spy on the whole world via one (1) government computer system

Panopticon screenshot happened in March 2021. First two statements are May 2022. Alice said the voices started showing up about a year ago. So even if the Fears were already here, JMart are here now once more to lend their voices to the verbal record of Fear

Speaking of the Fears already being here. If the Rift was also for Time, I’m sure the Web could have figured out a way to drag the Squad back along the timeline while somehow leaving jmart behind

OIAR is EITHER. The Fears (Web specifically) preparing a perfect funnel-spider web trap for JMart when they did show up (oh voices? tapes? telling fear stories? here you go motherfuckers) or someone’s Leitner/Smirk/Magnus-ass attempt to wrangle all the trauma under one roof. Either way I’m p sure it is Web-ish-aligned, if the Fears even exist in this world in the way we’re used to seeing them

If we’ve got two grown up paranormal guinea pigs, AND a bouchard running around, and all of them are here because of Some Sort Of Reason, and are Still Here Even Though They Could Leave, I assume everyone else is too. I wonder if they all have some tie to this world’s Institute, or if they’ve all had encounters, or were selected based on their compatibility with the OIAR’s aims

Speaking of which

WHAT IS THE OIAR? Cuz this part of it is clearly kinda similar to the Archives in terms of collecting and sorting statements. Is there more of it? What do those people do? Do they use these sorted entries somehow? Also why tf do they have do work overnight????

[bambiesfics]

do u have any headcanons for loser ellie? <3

Sorry if these arent as yummy, I just woke up and I’m so eepy. But these are what I could think up <3 This is such a random collection of thoughts but!

- I think Ellie has a red Coca-Cola themed mini fridge in her room where she stores monster energy drinks and her elf bars so they pull cool when she smokes them.

- She has a vision of -2.00 in one eye and -2.50 in the other eye, but hates putting on her glasses because she’s afraid it makes her look nerdier than she already is.

- She doesn’t use conditioner, only shampoo. And when girls at school flirt with her and ask how her hair is so soft she just tugs on a tiny lock of it and awkwardly tries to avoid eye contact. “Uh-I uh…I dunno. Do you think it’s soft?”

- She falls in love fast, and hard. An absolute master at obsessing over someone so much so that thinking about her crush at night time has been her favorite mechanism to fall asleep at since she was in middle school.

- She owns like 4 pairs of converses and only one pair of doc martens. She still winces thinking about the amount she spent on those. She’s had the same shoe size since she was in middle school so all her converses are beat up.

- Her preferred method of masturbating is angrily fingering herself and she usually does it with a pillow over her head. She’s always pissed after, she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the sudden dopamine drop from her nut. Or maybe it’s because she’s tired of imagining fucking the same girls she can’t have & who will never want her back. There’s only so many times she can imagine eating a pretty girl’s butt until they squirt on her glasses before she starts getting pissed that it isn’t actually happening, mid-masturbation sesh. She grinds her g-spot until she cums, lazily rinses her hands, and just lies face down on her pillow in a stiff plank position.

- She listens to 40 year old dad rock the most. Think Aerosmith, Depeche mode, Papa roach, Deftones (she has a complex about that) and Alice in Chains. She’d slowly built up a collection of her most loved songs since she was 12 years old. So all her favourite bands and artists are a collection of music she holds near and dear to her heart. Don’t don’t even try it though, it doesn’t matter if you listen to those bands too, you cannot suggest one North American song to Ellie that she hasn’t already heard of. She’ll always know more music than you, even though her Spotify music obscurity rating is like top 6%

- She oddly knows more pop songs than you too. Even though she doesn’t listen to them nearly as much.

- She has slight ringing in her left ear from how loud she usually blasts her headphones at night. Sometimes when the noise really pisses her off, she leaps off her bed and loads up her playstation instead. Which then lead to 10am’s the very next day where her eye bags are a deep purple and she walks through the halls like a freckled ghoul.

- she uses the broken skateboard she used to skate when she was 17, as decoration in the corner for her room.

- she has 17 Etsy bookmarks saved from different tarot love spell practitioners. One time she dm’d one and just went into very scary explicit detail about how she wanted you to notice her, where the scene would be, what she’d be wearing, the first time you’d let her give you head, the fact that you’d be ovulating (that one was really important), and what type of pregnancy cravings you’d have when the inevitable happened and she married you (you weirdly had cravings for her current fav snacks: snickers and carton almond milk).

- she also knows she’s a loser. Scarily self aware girl.

- One time her and her counsellor just stared at each other, and blinked back and forth the entire sesh.