#but with everything julian says or does

[soyboysace]

i genuinely love how amused alex is by julian's annoyance and distain towards him

[taskmastercaps]

[ID: Nine screencaps from Taskmaster. The studio screen shows a ceramic figure of a soldier, with a red and gold uniform and a helmet with a big white plume. Julian Clary says from off-screen, "I bought it to annoy my husband, 'cause I thought he'd hate it." He continues cheerfully, "But, actually, we've grown to love him. We call him Bernard. And he's everything you'd want in a soldier. He's well-presented, he's very, very smart, and probably available for no-strings fun round the back of the barracks." Greg Davies asks, "Why does it have to be no-strings?" Julian laughs, "That's how we like it." End ID.]

[blooms-in-april]

In Oxenfurt there is a sacred tradition, which no one dares encroach upon: no one can be arrested during a theatre performance. And the scholars of Oxenfurt, for all their learning, are a dramatic, suspicious sort, and so the law stands. It's been taken advantage of by many a drunk and disorderly student, taking refuge in the audience of the Grand Theatre to evade the guard, until inevitably, the curtain falls and their reprieve is over.

When they come to arrest Professor Pankrantz, his students won't have it. He had come back to them quiet and broken this winter, more careless with his dissent, more bold in his defiance. He did not seem to care when the warrant was put out for his arrest, as an elvish sympathizer, a sodomite, and a conspirator against Nilfgaard.

"He knows the White Wolf will save him. He always does." Essi had said with false confidence, but the weeks pass and the university's protection wanes and the White Wolf does not come.

"He's not coming." Adrien whispers, hunched over his songbook. "We must do something."

"We will," Essi responds.

When he hears the guards outside his office, Jaskier puts down his quill for the last time. He swings open the door.

"Gentlemen!" He says. The armored faces are featureless, unmoving. "How would you like me?" They grab and cuff him hard across the head, then frogmarch him down the hall. His head rings like a great bell tolling the hour. He can feel the blood trickling out his ear.

There is a great crash, and a scuffle, and a large hand grabs him by the elbow. "Geralt." He whispers.

But it's not. Jeremiah smiles awkwardly, and holds his dented tuba in one hand. "I used to be a blacksmith before this." The quiet youth says. "Never thought it would come in handy again."

"My dear boy." Jaskier says as he's pulled along. "You shouldn't have. You saved my life."

"Your tutoring saved mine during finals. I think we're even, Professor."

Jaskier is hurried in through the backstage door, crowded with students carrying instruments, costumes, sheet music, and props. They all part way to let him through. "Top box, Professor." Essi says, hurrying him. "We saved it just for you."

He sits down, bewildered, as the guards shout outside and the orchestra tunes frantically. The curtain opens just as the guards make it into the auditorium. Everything hushes in that special breath before a show.

Essi steps on stage.

"Thank you and welcome to the members of the Oxenfurt Academy faculty, staff, and student body who have come to support this performance," she says. "We'd also like to welcome representatives of various law enforcement communities who have chosen to join us in the Academy Grand Theatre tonight. In the spirit of the arts, leave all discord at the door, and please enjoy this special performance by the students of Oxenfurt - 'The Adversities of Loving', a tribute to the life and works of Professor Julian Alfred Pankrantz."

She bows. The audience applauds. The play begins.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full headcanons for when MC regains all of their missing memories please 🙏🏽🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: When MC regains their memories

Julian

It's one thing to discover, with someone who also didn't remember at the time, that he had essentially forgotten about you when you needed his help most. It's another to remember it

The early stages you spent still working with him, still sending him communications, still hoping he'd stop to connect long enough to notice your condition and do his job as a doctor and your friend

You don't know which hurts worse, that, or the later stages you spent weak and dying and alone, hoping against hope that he'd notice you were gone and come to help you through the last of it

The way his face falls in regret and pain when you finally tell him what those days were like is a closure you didn't know you needed

As much as it hurts both of you to address, the fact that Julian feels like you can forgive him while knowing the full extent of what he's done gives him an even stronger faith in your relationship

He's also excellently suited to helping you unpack it all - he's been through the same thing himself, having missing memories change how he lives, and then getting them all back at once. He gets it

So excited to learn all about your past self from you

Asra

If this ultimately makes you a happier, healthier person, they are both delighted for you and hugely relieved that it happened

One of his many fears after bringing you back was that he wouldn't be able to give you a life worth having. Your lack of memories definitely contributed to that, and seeing you recover is wonderful

Of course it's not all sunshine and rainbows. As soon as you've reached a point where you can talk about it, they're asking you for your forgiveness all over again and for your side of the story

He left you where he knew it was dangerous, and he failed to stay with you because he chose his fear over his love. He didn't even leave you a way to call for him when you needed him

At the same time, it's their unfailing presence with you now that helps you overcome the disjointedness of it all. They've grown and matured, but your current and old memories alike feature them

So when you're ready to reminisce, to start talking about your old antics and embarrassing mistakes and weird habits, the same best friend who saw it all then will remember it with you now

Only now, there's no walls, fears, or secrets left between you

Nadia

Your memories are back? Tell her everything

Seriously, everything. It's been so fulfilling for her to have someone to trust and allow into her heart and mind and space, and she's often regretted that you can't do the same to that capacity

She does struggle early on not to feel guilty when you mention things like Vesuvia's failing economy or the ravages of the Red Plague, but she's quick to keep the focus on you

Soaks up all the little details and anecdotes you share with her

You remember your childhood favorite food? She's having it served at tea, to see if it tastes the way you remember it

You mentioned a song you remember a parent or family member singing? She's boosting the local music scene with a big prize for whoever can find and learn to play/sing it to you

Really, really wants to visit all the places you have your core memories in. Taking you to Prakra gave her a closure and bond with you that she really wants you to enjoy as well

It goes without saying, but she has an open invitation to anyone you want to reconnect with to visit or stay at the Palace

Muriel

He's happy ... for you. He knows how deeply formative memories and history are, and it's only right for you to have your roots back

He's also the closest to terrified and insecure he's been in a long time, and that's because if you remember a time before the end of the Plague, you remember the time when he was the Scourge

He doesn't care for secrets. He's never hidden who he was from you. He knows you saw his old self and that it hasn't changed how you love him. But it's different when it's your memories, not his

What if you visited the Coliseum without him knowing?

What if you took a seat and experienced the disappointment and revulsion of seeing your best friend's oldest friend, maybe even someone you were fairly close with as well, turn into a killer?

But if you could look at his memories and still commit to loving him, he can and will do the exact same for you

Gives you space when you need it and sticks by your side when you need it, always ready to lend an ear when you want to share

Happy to go on a trip with you if it'll let you reconnect with lost family and roots. You did the same for him, after all!

Portia

Oh she's not worried at all. She knows you two have got this

Whatever there is in your history that she may have an issue with, she knows you two can talk about it and she knows who you are now is not who you used to be. No serious concerns there

That aside, you can finally live with (roughly) the same amounts of memories she has! This is great! You should write them down!

Not the best at giving you space if you want to process alone, but so empathetic with the whole adjustment that it's almost impossible to feel misunderstood. She's got your back

Even with the tricky relational stuff. Her older brother and Asra, especially. She knows you knew them when things were bad, and she's ready to mediate any hard conversations you need to have

And she'll give you all the emotional support you need after

Almost scarily dedicated to helping you track down and reconnect with people from your past. (Given how she spent three years hunting down her brother, it's not hugely surprising ...)

So confident and settled in your relationship that it makes sorting through the memories easier. You're still each other's fresh start

Lucio

He's happy for you! He really is! He promises! (all said with both hands in the air, a strained smile, and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face while the dogs look unimpressed)

Okay so maybe he's a little scared

He knows you've talked about it. Hell, you walked with him through the landscape of his memories and failings and somehow managed to hold love for him as he went

But if you can actually remember, now, what he did ... who he used to be ... what you suffered because of him both directly and indirectly, and yes, the horrific death you can remember now too

He knows he's changed and his faith in you is boundless but his faith in who he used to be is nonexistent, for good reason

Almost makes you lose your temper pestering you for how you really feel and tripping over his feet to prove himself after

Once you've told him that nothing about your relationship is under threat, he becomes an amazing partner to help you unpack

He gets it. What it's like to relive visceral memories, for the past to feel so disjointed. He gets it, and he's got you

[well-gosh-diddly-darnit-minyard]

forever going to believe in a version of the secret history where everything is fine in the end. a version where Bunny doesn’t find out about the murder, or maybe the murder never happens. maybe they all spend winter break at Francis’s house, and they eat grossly extravagant meals and drink too much wine and maybe Richard lets slip something about his real home and they all smother him with love like real friends do. maybe Bunny really does just die in a tragic hiking accident, or maybe he never dies at all. maybe Camilla says something so profound to Richard over a cup of wine sipped from teacups that he suddenly sees her as a person, as someone to cherish and not something to covet. maybe Henry and Richard become closer, maybe Charles and Camilla have a healthy sibling relationship. maybe Richard proposes, maybe Camilla says yes. and maybe, just maybe, when they’ve all graduated, they live happily. Bunny has married Marion and doesn’t contact the group anymore, except to send them Christmas cards full of photos of his children: all blond and round faced like he is, all cherub-faced angels like he never was. Francis doesn’t marry, but stays in his aunt’s house in the country; Richard and Camilla marry but never have children, they stay together and spend their days in Francis’s library and spend so much time with him they practically move in with him; Charles goes his own way, maybe he gets over his addiction and finds a sweet woman down south who promises that she’ll love him forever and no matter what; and Henry, he teaches at Hampden, in the same room Julian taught in before he passed, and he lets anyone study Greek if they want to because he longs more than anything to share the love of his life with anyone who will listen. little does he know that there have always been people listening, and a few in particular who still do.

[footballfanficwriter]

Prise giving ceremony

Summary:Jude and the reader are invited for their children's prize giving Ceremony

"Jude c'mon we're gonna be late" I say

"Yeah, I'm coming" he says, he takes my hand and we make it out the front door

"I've already spoken to mum she says they'll meet us there, cause they need to get a few things before the Ceremony starts" He says

"Are your parents going to be there?"

"I don't know honestly, but it would be really Nice if they showed up, it would mean so much to the kids if they did"

"Hey don't worry, even if they don't show up, I'm sure it will still be fun"

"Yeah"

" how many awards do you think the kids will get?"

"I don't know, besides, I don't care I'll be proud of them either way"

"Yeah, me too, But you know how they are, they always want to be top achievers in everything they do"

"I think they get that from the both of us to be honest"

"I don't always strive to be a top achiever"

"Yes you do Jude"

"How?"

"What about that time after one of your matches and you didn't play the way you wanted to, were you not having a fit?"

"I did not"

"Babe you did"

"Well you're also like that"

"Oh I already know I strive to be a top achiever, I'm not going to deny who i am"

"Whatever" he says rolling his eyes

"But I'm sure the genes didn't spread to our kids, right?"

"Yeah, no that is a lie, our children are so competitive it worries me sometimes"

"You're overreacting"

"Oh, am I?"

"Yeah you are"

"Remember that time when Julian, lost his football game and he got so upset he wouldn't even eat his dinner?, or what about the time Julia didn't get first prize for her 1200m run, and she nearly fought the girl who did, need I go on?"

"Alright you've made your point"

"Thank you"

We arrive at the school and Jude parks the car, he walks out of the car and comes around my side to open my door

"Thank you"

"It's a pleasure babe"

"You actually look beautiful in that outfit you know"

"Really, you like it?"

"I love it"

Jude has a black turtleneck on, with a suit Jacket, black slacks and dress shoes and a silver Rolex watch, while I have on a black dress that reaches just past my knees, with a criss cross back and a slight low V cut in the front, matched with a pair of black heels a gold necklace, gold earrings and my wedding ring

As we enter the venue we see people taking pictures, no dought that these pictures will be on the internet by the time the ceremony is over

When we enter the venue we find Denise,Mark and Jobe sat in the second row behind all the teachers and principals, we make our way to where they are sitting and greet them

"Mom we're here" Jude says

They turn their heads towards us and stand up

"Hi Darling, you alright" Denise says greeting me and coming in for a hug

"Yeah mom, I'm alright"

"Aren't you proud"

"Very proud"

Mark taps my shoulder getting my attention

"Hey" he says coming in for a hug

"Hi dad, how've you been?"

"I'm alright"

I greet Jobe and give him a brotherly hug while he daps Jude up

We all take our seats with me sandwiched in between Jude and Denise and Mark sitting next to Denise and Jobe

The MC starts the program and the school choir sings the school song, after that the MC starts her opening speech

"Good evening everyone, we're so grateful for your presence here tonight, thank you for coming to celebrate the children who have undoubtably worked hard to achieve these achievements, without further ado let's get started, I would like to call on Mrs. Clinton to come and present the awards"

Mrs. Clinton walks onto the stage and greets everyone

"Good evening everyone, I am here in front of you all to present the special awards to the children, the first award is awarded to the most creative student, Jessica James"

Everyone claps for Jessica as she walks onto the stage to get her award

"Why does she walk like that" Jude asks

"Don't Judge other people's kids Jude"

"Next, this award is for the most kindest and caring student who always puts other's needs before their own, this award is awarded to Ronald Johnson"

People clap for Ronald and  he collects his award

"Those are some big glasses he's got on" he says as he fists his hands making a hole in between each hand and putting each fisted hand on each eye

"Jude, stop" I say tying to hold my laugh in

"Next this award is for the most improved student, who has improved either academically or Socially, having had a hard start when they first arrived in the school and to adapting the school's culture, this award is given to Melissa Hall"

Melissa collects her award and we all clap for her

"Now lastly this award is a prestigious one and is a shared by two students, this award is for the most ambitious and Hardworking students, Julia and Julian Bellingham"

Both Julia and Julian walk onto stage to get their shared award, I turn to my right to see Mark filming Every moment

Jude and I stand up so both of them can see us, they see us and wave and we return the gesture by smiling and waving

Next they announce that they'll be announcing the prizes for the year 1s ( first graders)

Which is Julian and Julia's year (grade)

"We will first start with the year 1s and their achievements" the MC Says

"I would like to call Mrs. Madden to the stage to present the Awards"

Mrs. Madden walks onto the stage, greets the audience, and continues Jude gives me a side eye as if to say "look at her outfit" Mrs. Madden has on an old looking cardigan and a pair of baggy trousers, bright red glasses and Pebbles/stones for Jewelry "Good evening, everyone. It's my pleasure to present the awards for the Year 1 students. These young minds have shown remarkable dedication and enthusiasm throughout the year. First, we'll start with the award for Excellence in Mathematics, which goes to... Julian Bellingham!"

The audience erupts in applause as Julian confidently strides to the stage to accept his award. His smile is radiant, and his eyes gleam with pride.

"That's my boy," Jude whispers to me, his face beaming with pride. I squeeze his hand, sharing in the moment of joy.

Julian accepts his award, posing for a quick photo before returning to his seat.

"Next, the award for Outstanding Performance in English goes to... Julia Bellingham!"

Julia, not to be outdone by her brother, walks gracefully to the stage, her expression one of quiet confidence. The applause is even louder this time, with our family cheering her on.

"I'm so proud of them," I say to Jude, my eyes welling up with tears of happiness.

"I know, me too," Jude replies, his voice full of emotion.

Julia accepts her award and waves at us again before taking her seat beside Julian.

Mrs. Madden continues, "The next award is for Excellence in Sports. This student has shown exceptional talent and dedication in various sports activities. The award goes to... Julian Bellingham!"

Julian gets up again, looking slightly embarrassed but very pleased as he accepts his second award. The applause is thunderous.

"He's going to need a bigger shelf for all these awards," Jude jokes, making me laugh.

"And finally," Mrs. Madden announces, "the award for Leadership and Teamwork goes to a student who has demonstrated exceptional leadership skills and the ability to work well with others. This award goes to... Julia Bellingham!"

Julia stands up for the second time, her face glowing with pride. She walks to the stage, collects her award, and waves once more, her smile brighter than ever.

As the ceremony concludes, the children are invited to take pictures with their families. Jude and I rush to the front to congratulate our kids, enveloping them in big, proud hugs.

"You both did amazing!" I say, kissing each of their foreheads.

"We're so proud of you," Jude adds, ruffling Julian's hair and hugging Julia tightly.

"Thanks, Mom and Dad!" they both say, their faces glowing with happiness.

Denise, Mark, and Jobe join us, offering their congratulations. Denise takes out her phone and suggests, "Let's get a family picture to remember this moment."

We gather together, with Julian and Julia holding their awards proudly. As the camera clicks, I can't help but think about how lucky we are to have such amazing children and a loving, supportive family.

"Alright, let's go celebrate!" Jude announces, lifting Julian onto his shoulders. And me taking Julia into my arms, planting a kiss onto her cheek then her forehead

"Yeah, ice cream for everyone!, Say goodbye to your grandparents and Uncle Jobe" I add, placing Julia back down then holding her hand

"Bye nana" Julia Says as she hugs her grandmother

"Goodbye my Darling, I'm so proud of you, and you as well Julian" Denise says as she hugs the both of them

We continue saying our goodbyes and walk them to their car and we start making way to our car as well

as we make our way out of the venue, hearts full and spirits high.

The evening is a perfect blend of pride, love, and celebration, and as we head to our favorite ice cream parlor, I know that this is a day we will cherish forever.

As we walk to the car, Jude spots another kid and nudges me. "Look at that kid's bowtie. It's bigger than his head."

I laugh, nudging him back. "Jude, be nice!"

"And that one," he whispers, nodding towards a girl with a massive hair bow. "Is she trying to take flight with that thing?"

"Stop it!" I giggle, trying to hold back my laughter.

"Alright, alright," he says, chuckling. "But you have to admit, this is entertaining."

"You're terrible," I say, still laughing. "But I love you anyway."

"I love you too," he replies, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. "Now, let's go get some ice cream."

We pile into the car, the kids chattering excitedly about their awards in the backseat. Jude starts the engine and we head to our favorite ice cream parlor, the mood in the car light and joyful.

As we arrive and park, Jude turns to me with a playful smile. "You know, I was just thinking..."

"Uh-oh, should I be worried?" I tease, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," he laughs. "But seriously, what if Julian and Julia go into comedy? They seem to have a knack for entertaining, just like their old man."

"Oh, really? So now you're a comedian?" I say, laughing.

"Well, I did make you laugh, didn't I?" he retorts, winking.

We all get out of the car and head into the parlor, the kids rushing ahead to choose their favorite flavors. Jude and I follow more slowly, holding hands and enjoying the moment.

As we enter the ice cream parlor, the sweet aroma of freshly baked waffles and scoops of ice cream fills the air. Julian and Julia rush towards the display of flavors, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Mom, Dad, look at all the choices!" Julia exclaims, pointing excitedly.

"Yeah, Dad, they even have that weird green one you like," Julian adds with a grin.

Jude chuckles. "Hey, mint chocolate chip is a classic! Don't knock it till you've tried it."

I roll my eyes playfully. "You and your adventurous taste buds."

"Just trying to keep things interesting," he replies with a wink.

We join the kids at the counter, scanning the menu for our own favorites. Julian opts for a towering sundae while Julia goes for a colorful cone with sprinkles.

"I think I'll go for something simple today," I say, eyeing a scoop of strawberry cheesecake.

Jude nudges me. "Oh, come on, live a little! How about a triple scoop with all the works?"

I laugh. "I'll leave that to you, Mr. Mint Chocolate Chip."

As we wait for our treats, Jude leans closer to me, his voice low. "Did you see that kid's hair over there? It looks like a bird's nest."

I stifle a laugh. "Jude! Be nice."

"I'm just observing," he insists, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know I can't resist a good hairstyle critique."

"Well, keep your critiques to yourself," I tease, trying not to giggle too loudly.

Our ice cream arrives, and we settle into a cozy booth. Julian and Julia dive into their treats with gusto, their faces quickly turning into a sticky mess of smiles and satisfaction.

Jude leans back, savoring his mint chocolate chip. "You know, I have to hand it to them. These kids really know how to enjoy life's simple pleasures."

"Like ice cream," I add, licking a stray drip from my cone.

"Exactly," he says, nodding. "I mean, who needs fancy dinners when you've got a scoop of your favorite flavor?"

"Or a tower of sundaes," I reply, gesturing towards Julian's creation.

We watch our kids laugh and talk between messy bites, their joy infectious. It's moments like these that remind me why I fell in love with Jude—the way he finds humor in everyday moments and brings out the best in our family.

As we finish our ice cream, Jude leans over and whispers, "That kid over there looks like he's trying to break the world record for fastest ice cream eater." He says eyeing the poor child that just seems to be really enjoying his ice cream

I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself. "Jude, stop, what's wrong with you today and making fun of kids!" I manage to say between giggles.

He grins mischievously. "What? I'm just stating the obvious, and it's not like I'm saying it to their faces, how will they know I'm talking about them ?"

"You're terrible," I say, shaking my head, still laughing.

He chuckles softly. "But you love me anyway, right?"

"Of course," I reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Even when you're making fun of kids' hairstyles."

He squeezes my hand back, his eyes warm with affection. "I love you too, always."

We sit together in comfortable silence, watching our children and soaking in the happiness of this simple, perfect moment. As we prepare to leave, Jude leans over once more.

"Ready to head home, or should we challenge the kids to a rematch in mini golf?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Let's save that for another day. Right now, I think we've had enough excitement for one evening."

"Fair enough," he says, rising from the booth. "But don't think I won't take you up on that challenge someday."

I smile, knowing that whatever adventures lie ahead, we'll face them together—as partners, parents, and best friends.

"I love that idea," I say, kissing him on the cheek. "It's perfect."

As we sit there, enjoying our ice cream and each other's company, I realize that moments like these are what life is all about—love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

Jude takes a spoon of his ice cream  and leans back, content. "This is the life," he says, smiling at me and the kids. "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Me neither," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Me neither."

The evening winds down with more laughter, stories, and plans for the future. As we drive home, the kids eventually fall asleep in the backseat, clutching their awards.

Jude looks over at me and smiles. "We did good, didn't we?"

"We did great," I reply, feeling a warm glow of happiness. "Our little achievers."

We pull into the driveway, and Jude gently carries Julian inside while I take Julia. We tuck them into bed, kissing their foreheads and whispering words of love and pride.

Back in our bedroom, Jude wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. "Thank you for being my partner in this crazy, wonderful life," he says softly.

"Thank you for being mine," I reply, resting my head on his chest.

As we drift off to sleep, I can't help but feel incredibly grateful for this beautiful family we've built together—a family filled with love, humor, and endless possibilities.

[artificial-transmutations]

Historically Accurate

"I'm telling you, Hollywood is going down with all the woke crap! You know what they say: Go woke go broke!"

Julian and Wallace were on their way back from the lunch room and the former was listening to the latter complaining. Julian had tried to avoid any topic like this, but, really, it was a mine field with Wallace. Just about *every* topic had the potential to turn out political.

"I don't see what's wrong with a little inclusion in pop culture." Julian said, not wanting to argue but also not wanting to leave that opinion unopposed.

"Everything! It's just plain wrong, and it's brainwash, too. I mean, it's like a mind virus, poisoning everything! There's a western coming out next week. But it's all bullshit woke agenda again. The cowboy is black and gay! Literal brainwash and historical rewrite."

Julian frowned. How could an intelligent person like Wallace be so stupid at the same time?

"Why does that even bother you? I thought you hated westerns."

"Yes, that's not the point. Fact is, it's historically inaccurate and just pushing the woke agenda."

"Actually, I think it's not even historically incorrect." Julian pondered as they entered the lab using Julian's keycard and an iris scan of both scientists.

Wallace was borderline angry now.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that cowboys were the whitest and the straightest people there were."

"I'm not quite sure", Julian said. "Weren't there freed slaves and so on? And I would guess if you were underway with another guy for prolonged periods of time, not everything staid straight, too."

"Bullshit! Everyone knows cowboys weren't fags, and they were white."

Wallace seemed agitated now, and his usual stiff demeanor became even more pronounced.

Wallace was in his mid-forties, but the way he was talking, he seemed way older to Julian.

Julian on the other hand was awfully young for the position he had. Being 25, he still didn't look like he had finished college, even though he had his doctorate already.

It was really a bit sad, he thought. Two of the brightest minds and they were bickering over basic, meaningless distinctions like ethnicity or sexual orientation.

"We could just ask the computer." he proposed, but Wallace frowned.

"We are not supposed to use the equipment for private research." he said.

'The computer' was part of the highly secretive project they worked on. When finished, it was supposed to be a time machine, simple as that. The actual time travel device didn't work properly yet, but a part of it, a chronoton boosted quantum computer that was able to access history itself to answer questions about the part, was already functioning quite well.

"But we are supposed to test it from time to time. Are you afraid of the answer it might give?"

"Of course not." Wallace grumbled. "Fine. Computer! Is there any historical evidence of gay black cowboys?"

The voice activated system acknowledged the request with a beep. While waiting for the answer, Julian checked the parameters of the system and found them in near-perfect condition.

Finally, the system answered, with the neutral male voice it was programmed with.

"A significant portion of cowboys consisted of people with African heritage, especially after the freeing of slaves after the civil war. Homosexual acts and attraction were common among cowboys, especially during the trail drives. Demonstrating..."

"Hrmpf." Wallace said, clearly not happy.

Julian, who was still checking the readings, scratched his head.

"Did you remember to disconnect the capsule before making the query? It seems to be drawing power."

"Ah, crap. That's just because of all the bullshit talk. Computer, stop!"

"Unable to comply. Demonstrating... Target: Montana Frontier Area, June 1865..."

The white walls of the chamber started to glow in an ever brighter white that was beginning to hurt the eyes.

"Crap. Julian, cut the power!" Wallace said, now with a clear notion of fear in his voice. The younger scientist didn't answer but tried to do as he was told - but did not succeed in time.

Suddenly, with a flash, their surroundings changed and the two of them found themselves in the middle of a rugged mountain range, on the border of a pine forest. It was late afternoon and the scientists found themselves in a just set-up camp. Two horses were standing nearby, and a small herd of cows was grazing at a meadow.

Wallace sighed and shook his head angrily. "Just great. Look at the mess you just put us in. Now we have to wait until we're rescued. And, apparently, we have to meet some black homo cowboys."

Julian looked around but couldn't see anyone around.

"I would have also guessed so, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there."

His heart sank as he had a terrible suspicion. He had been experimenting lately with a normalization circuit that would embed the time travelers into history instead of superimposing them onto it. That was - according to his theories - a rather elegant way to resolve the repelling effect the historical structure had, but it wasn't finished by any means. It had never been tested and even theoretically, it wouldn't be able to achieve a partial embedding, only a full one at best. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it had still been connected to the system.

As Julian thought about how to break it to Wallace, he noticed something strange about the other scientist. It could be a trick of the light, but he looked way more tanned than before.

"Uhm... It might actually be somewhat worse than that. I think my normalization circuit was still active when you activated the machine."

"What? What does that mean?" Wallace looked at him, furiously now.

"Well, I would guess..." Julian struggled and gave up. "Look at your hands, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Wallace looked down at his darkening hands and paled. Even now, he still had a considerably darker skin tone than before, darkening with every passing second.

"Shit." he said. "That's what you get for fucking around with a half-finished experiment."

Julian didn't even dare to mention his suspicion. If his normalization circuit was really active, that would make Wallace an actual, black cowboy, and not just him. Julian was also a time traveler, so he, too, would be affected.

Meanwhile, the changes in Wallace seemed to have proceeded. His facial structure looked like it was in motion before finally settling on a generally broader, manlier shape: The jawline became more pronounced, and his cheekbones raised.

"Is there... anything going on with me as well?" Julian asked.

Wallace looked over at him.

"Yeah, your hair color is changing, and I think your eye color. Blonde and blue-eyed, how cliché. But most importantly, you're not becoming fucking a fucking Black man."

Wallace didn't say Black man.

For some reason, this didn't bother Julian half as much as it should have. He felt rather at ease, and the untamed wilderness around him awakened a sense of adventure inside of him that he didn't know was in him.

Meanwhile Wallace was also feeling a change within. A surge of confidence emerged from within him that was entirely alien to the deeply insecure man at first, but quickly became more and more part of his personality. It was like his core was solidifying into a confident and assertive nature, a boldness and quiet he secretly always wished he had. At the same time, his body structure changed considerably.

Where before, Wallace had been a physically unimpressive mid-forties man, it now seemed like the years melted off of him, and for every year that he lost, he gained three pounds of muscle mass and beef. His shoulders widened, his height increased, and his frame expanded in order to accommodate the new body mass.

"It's not that bad, ain't it?" While Julian's body had not changed much besides the hair and eye color, his voice sounded entirely different now. It had a southern lilt to it, but it was charismatic and charming. It was the kind of voice you could listen to for hours without end, perfect for reading an audiobook - or telling campfire stories.

"Well now, I ain't too sure 'bout that." Wallace's voice had changed even more considerably when he answered. He had gained a thick southern accent, and his voice had dropped to a low and smooth voice that sounded commanding even if he didn't intend to.

"Ha, look at that, your skin's startin' to change now, too!"

And really, Julian's skin had started to adapt as well, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it went a different route than Wallace's. Instead of darkening to the almost black tone that he was sporting, Julian's skin became rougher and got a sun-kissed tan instead. His facial features sharpened, as his cheekbones looked chiseled all of a sudden and a rugged beard texture was adorning his chin. Julian seemed to notice it, too, since he started touching his new face immediately.

"Cool! Always wondered what I'd look like sportin' a beard." he said, apparently not too unhappy with the changes.

There was no denying Julian looked good, which made Wallace feel a touch of jealousy. In his opinion, it wasn't fair that he was the only one having to deal with the black skin. That feeling quickly faded, though, as his changes continued. His hair became very short, curly and dark. At the same time, a short beard formed on his chin and upper lip, giving him an even manlier appeal. At the same time, chest hair sprouted, sparsely of course, as it was normal for a man of his heritage. A strange feeling overcame Wallace. He wasn't necessarily *proud* to be Black now, but he also didn't mind it anymore. He was proud of a lot of secondary assets, though, like his bulging muscles or his handsome face. As his eyes became a dark brown, he had to smirk as he sat down by the fire, readjusting himself in the process. And, of course, his big cock, which might also have been positively influenced by his new ancestry.

Wallace watched as Julian turned around and tended to the horses. His body was now, finally, also changing. It didn't become nearly as bulky as his own, but instead lean and agile, with narrow hips and a well-distributed surprising strength, as Wallace knew. While Julian was busy with the horses, Wallace had a good view of his ass. It filled out the jeans just so well, and Vallace only noticed now that the other man's attire had changed. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a vest and, of course a Stetson now, and Vance always thought that this outfit accentuated the best parts of his partner quite well. He preferred black leather, himself, since the material was sturdier and felt better on the skin.

Vince felt his cock hardening in his leather pants and readjusted himself again while also leaning back and spreading his legs to make more room for the erection. He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing his rude behavior. The only other man within a wide range was Jesse, the owner of that juicy ass. And he was allowed to see... well, everything.

Vince waited patiently until Jesse returned to the campfire, with a big smile on his face.

"How them horses holdin' up, partner?" Vince asked.

"They're good. Just a tad worn out from today's ride." Jesse answered.

"Well, there's somethin' else needs tendin' to, if you're free to lend a hand. Or an ass." Vince grinned and made his cock throb in the confines of his tight leather pants.

Jesse grinned at the display of masculinity and massaged his own cock.

"Hell yes!"

As Jesse moved over in his usual graceful movements, Vince leaned back. There really wasn't anything better than being a big, black cowboy. Especially not with a partner like Jesse, who was always happy to make the nights in the wilderness a little less lonely.

Certainly not poor and lonesome! Also check out this awesome writer!

There are a few more versions of Jesse and Vince, over at my tip jar.

[vaguely-concerned]

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

[rockrosethistle]

TSH hot takes 🔥

-Julian was actually a dick. He isolated and groomed vulnerable students (do you think it's a coincidence that every single member of the greek class had a difficult home life?) into thinking that these very outdated concepts of love and power were good for them. He compared their dangerous behaviour to that of ancient gods. Then, rather than face the consequence of his actions and take accountability, he left when it mattered.

-Charles was an asshole, but he's not a scapegoat. You cannot blame all the problems on Charles, he was an addict as a result of his trauma. He needed help. This doesn't excuse him from his actions, but it explains them. At the beginning of the book he physically could not bring himself to hurt Camilla. He's not a "bad" person. He's a sick person.

-Bunny didn't deserve to die, but he was also probably going to condemn the group at some point. He didn't just die for no reason. (Believing that Bunny's death was truly pointless also means believing that Henry was an actual psychopath who killed his friend for shits and giggles.)

-Judy, Cloke and Sophie ended up the happiest. That is literally the moral of the book. Judy wasn't all tortured when Richard didn't want to hang out with her, she shook it off and kept living her life. That's literally the point.

-Richard was never in love with Camilla. He loved the idea of her, but didn't see her as a person. Because of this specific dynamic and the fact the Richard is narrating, we know nothing about her actual personality. Anything he says can be disputed, and a lot of it contradicts itself.

-Francis is not blameless or unproblematic, but of the group he probably had the best intentions. Most of his behaviour that can be interpreted as creepy can be chalked up to Richard's internalized homophobia (remember, everything is told from his point of view, and Francis was a gay man in the 80's) When you look objectively at what Francis did, you see that he made a pass, got rejected, then dropped it and moved on. There is (i think) one more attempt made later on in the book, and that is furthered by Richard and only interrupted when Charles shows up.

-Henry may be the metaphorical representative of death when talking about the book, but in the narrative it's important to remember he's also just a person. Otherwise everything he does seems beyond question, and he's assigned this label as just "evil." He was 21!! Literally still a kid

-There were not good or bad characters. The reason they hit so hard is because each of them are so layered. They all have good traits and bad traits, but calling one "evil" takes away their humanity and dismisses their complexity that makes them so great.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.2

Prettyyyyy

Maybe John's not actually crazy for thinking Hey Jude is to him? “For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.” fool is, in my tin hat world, often a code name for Paul in their songs. And that description is certainly him to a t actually. I wonder why I've never considered it before. 

John: are you happy here, honey? Paul: I ain't happy here my honey, can you take me back? How many songs does Paul write from 1968 on about trying to go back? One day I'm going to make a list and it'll be a long one. 

And thus begins the phase of they just can't help it, can they? But they really wish they could. They make each other so so happy, but they really wish they didn't. It would hurt less that way. 

I love the comparison of Linda's pictures of everyone else and then of John. It just shows that it's not a her problem – that's such a lovely one of George, who Hates Yoko – it's how he feels about her.

John, coming up with every possible weapon to provoke Paul, finally has Yoko sing Paul's part in one of their songs. It really is such a slap in the face. But of course breaking the sanctity of their music is what does it best. And still, all he gets out of him is a look before he walks away. Whatever it is that John wants, I think Paul literally can not give it to him. 

Btw the white album is my favorite, probably. There's just such incredible diversity on it. It's so much fun, you never get tired of it, and it's an excellent display of their genius and versatility. 

He looks like an abandoned puppy. 

What do we think? John says Paul drummed on WDWDITR. Paul says Ringo did. Who is telling the truth?

“It was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that but he couldn't make the break . . .” So John thinks Paul doing his songs by himself means he wants to break the group up? I personally read it as him not wanting to annoy everyone with his bossiness, but that's just my take. 

John talking about how it's him and Yoko now, but before, it was . . .

George needs to send them a cease and desist notice or he'll sue them for breech of character the amount of times they drag him into things he's not a part of. Especially if they're not going to even fucking spare him a glance in reality. Please and thank you, Hare Krishna. 

Paul's epigraph on the two virgins cover. “Battles to prove he was a saint”? What kind of passive aggressive shit is that, Paul?

The eternal question: what happened in India? And does John really not know? Or is he just unwilling to tell what happened to rolling stone?

Somebody please engage with that poor little boy, preferably, you know, his father. Ugh, Cynthia must've had so much anxiety watching that footage, or really any time Julian was with John. And that footage is placed in the doc right after a pic of Paul already being Heather's dad just so naturally. 

But hell, if I've ever seen attention-seeking behavior, this is it. Singing about wanting to die while seductively undressing the closest thing Paul would've had to career competition at the time. 

I'm sorry but it will forever be hilarious to me that when John's singing his part of “I've Got a Feeling” with Yoko it's “soft dream” and then with Paul it's “wet dream”. How John and Yoko tricked everyone into believing they were too horny for each other to control themselves is beyond my imagination. 

On the day John plays their sex tape, “Unusually, Yoko is not present.” LMAO girl same. John: I'm going to play our sex tape for the band tomorrow. Yoko: oh was that tomorrow? Damn, I forgot, I have a thing. 

“Well that's an interesting one.” What did John honestly expect, though? Like I know he wanted Paul to be like, “that's it! Enough is enough I'm taking you home and doing you right!” Or whatever. But what did he honestly, realistically expect?

Always saying the same things at the same time, always on the same page, same word. About everything, it seems, except their relationship. 

Paul: but you won't say anything about it. John: I said what I've been thinking. Paul: Are you still thinking that now? What are you thinking now? John: I'm still thinking about it. Infuriating. Whatever it is John's been thinking, he doesn't want to talk about it in front of cameras. Is it quitting the band? I think it's something more complicated than that but I've no idea what. 

“John, John, joooooohn!” X “Martha my Dear” crossover my beloved. The fact that literally Everyone reacts and tries to get her to stop except Paul is so extremely telling. Yoko: joooooohn! Ringo: He's busy! Yoko: joooooohn! John: Stop that! (And he looks and sounds genuinely pissed) Yoko: joooooohn! Paul: (plinking and pounding away, definitely not thinking thoughts about what he would do right now if he was a girl that will come out of his mouth fifteen years later)

Everyone's trying to figure out the problem with George vs JohnandYoko and Paul's saying “and like with Yoko, they’re real. They mean it.” Linda laughs. “I don't dig that.” You don't, Linda? What about them isn't real to her, I wonder. Does she think they don't really love each other? Or what?

Linda: *Makes fart noise* Go away! Paul: continues to defend them. Neil: everybody cough. See and this is why it sucks that get back was so edited. Because it's important that Paul's defending them here not just going on and on where nobody asked. He knows he's hurt John, and he feels bad enough about it to let him have his mommy with him at all times if that's what he needs.

If what??? Someone needs to force them to finish their damn sentences. Because I feel like he cuts himself off here when (I swear!!) he's about to say what it is that's hurting John so badly.

Anyway, here's where (imo) he's kinda wrong. Where he says "if it came to a push between Yoko and the band, it's Yoko." I think I said it in my get back posts, but I'll say it again. Yeah, if it was Yoko or the band, it's Yoko. But if it's Yoko or Paul filling all the gaps Yoko is currently filling? It's Paul. You know? And I think that's what John wants so badly at this time, actually. Is “a push between Yoko and [Paul]” ending with Paul stepping up for him in some way that he wasn't before, you know?

He really does get it though. John wanting to be as close as possible with Yoko so he doesn't lose her and their connection. Don't forget he does put Linda in his band. He gets it because it was the same with him and John. 

I really do think it's a huge myth that they just never talked about feelings or anything serious. Look at them. This is how they talk in a crowded place with their girlfriends sitting right there. They didn't just get through fifteen years of one of the greatest collaborations in history never actually talking. They talked about deep stuff. And frequently. 

[thebeesareback]

I just finished the audio book for Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History, so naturally I had to have a lil scroll to see what everyone thought on Tumblr. To add to the discourse: (spoilers, obviously)

Also trigger warning: incest, abuse, murder, alcoholism

Why is Tumblr so in love with Henry Winter?! He murders the farmer, Bunny, and possibly tries to kill Charles. He's manipulative and may well try to make Richard take the fall (har har) for Bunny's death. In the garden scene, he admits to being a psychopath/sociopath. Oh, and he's unbelievably pretentious

Also, why are there so many cute pictures of the twins hanging out? Their relationship was strained, incestuous, co-dependent, abusive. The whole uwu thing baffles me

Richard has a very obvious foot fetish and nobody is talking about it

The novel is quite funny, and I wish more people picked up on that. Most of the humour comes from Francis - the pinz nez stays ON during sex; no, Bunny's parents weren't very upset when one of their grandchildren ruined Francis' scarf, they were preoccupied by their missing son; and there's a throwaway line where the art students eat sushi with paintbrushes instead of chopsticks. I also liked when the twins panicked after Bunny's murder and decided to start repotting tulips

The farmer is referred to by name twice. Once in a newspaper, once by Bunny. Strange to think that he's the person in the squad who might actually have a conscience. Incidentally, Milo, the golden retriever who finds Bunny's body, has his name mentioned more frequently.

Richard is a smelly, badly dressed misanthrope. As is Henry, and Charles towards the end. Francis, Camilla and Hampden itself provide the (admittedly gorgeous) dark academia aesthetic, but if you want to end that dream, remember how terrible everything would have smelled. I guess the difference between appearance and reality is a pretty big theme

Julian is very creepy, obviously, but I was surprised that he wasn't more involved in the plot. He seems like exactly the sort of person to start a cult. I'd also like to know if he and Henry were in a sexual relationship, because we see them kiss once and then it's never mentioned again

Foreshadowing is done EXCELLENTLY through the book. There were a few characters who were described as ghostly at the start, and I THINK they're the ones who survive. Also, Tartt loves her pathetic fallacy (not phallusy).

Time is very strange. If you bothered to plot out all of the events, I don't think it quite makes sense. Term starts in September, say Richard joins Julian's classes in early October? That means all the picnics, the Sunday walks with Bunny, the trips to Francis' house, all happen over about five weeks, leading to the 12th November when Charles, Henry and Francis kill the farmer. Unreliable narrator, I guess

A lot of things about Richard's character make more sense when you realise the abuse he grew up experiencing and witnessing. Poor Ms Papen. Odd that Richard's parents don't visit him when he's in hospital

Funny that everyone is surprised when the twins' incest comes out. Like, they had an orgy at the start of the baccanal. Call me a prude, but I wouldn't attend an orgy with a family member

I would go for girls' night with Judy Poovey

Also, the book was published in 1992. Does anyone know when Prince Charles and Camila Parker Bowles went public with their relationship? Seems like an unbelievable coincidence otherwise

If anyone has an actual criteria for identifying alcohol abuse/alcoholism, please lmk if any of the main six characters AREN'T alcoholics. I'm pretty sure I got liver cirrhosis and lung cancer just from reading this book

[l0vem41l]

heart for brains.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort-esque but not really, fluff (?) sensitive reader who loooves being tough, a few pet names are used (darling, lovely—) but sparingly because i can never take things seriously 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic </3 」

↳ ft. asra alnazar, julian devorak, lucio morgasson, muriel of the kokhuri, nadia satrinava, portia devorak

author's note: less of the “One Bad Thing happened and it fucking destroyed me” type of sensitive even though that’s so real and valid and more of the "big emotions are slowly killing me always" type. sorry if they're slightly ooc! i'm playing the game again,,,, eventually :> need to get their dialogue right AWIOFJWRIHFW (┬┬﹏┬┬) more lighthearted in lucio’s part (cant stand this bitch!!!!! /affectionate), and unfortunately nadia’s and portia’s are criminally short (；′⌒`)........ i love them i just haven’t played their routes also also!!!! used some borders from @cafekitsune in this!! lmk if it makes things easier to read cuz i might keep it! (☆-ｖ-)

" life's hard when you're soft. "

▸ ASRA has grown the most familiar with your routine. you’re not quite fragile, as he’s come to discover— just that you tend to swallow your emotions down with a smile, only for them to rise back up at the slightest inconvenience. in a few moments— as predicted— the tears stinging in your eyes finally begin slipping.

he gently cups your face, even as you attempt to hide away and avert your gaze, drying your cheeks with his fingers. you swear to him, through mumbles and sobs that you’re trying to toughen up— you’re really trying— while insisting there’s no reason for you to be upset about your little predicament while you choke back the sob rising in your throat. they know you too well for those feeble attempts to convince them.

“shhh… it’s alright. it’s alright.” asra’s voice is understanding. patient. they wouldn’t care if you were crying over the smallest matter in the universe right now. all their focus is on calming you down.

while asra believes and insists that your capacity for strong emotions is a blessing and not a curse like you tend to think, he does wish that your tenderness would not be so abused by the world around you. at the end of the day, he reminds you that you’ve got his love— that he’ll always be there to wipe your tears away— but will always secretly wonder to himself about why you continue to be so recklessly kind.

even so, you’re never to blame for your big heart in their eyes. and slowly, everything they do to make the world a better place is in hope that one day, the world will be sweeter to you.

▸ JULIAN does quietly and internally freak out when he first sees you cry— not because he doesn’t know what to do, but rather because he hadn’t expected seeing you, out of all people, like this. you— the person who always seemed to find something to be happy about instead of dwelling on your misery. you— who frequently brushed off inconveniences and upsetting circumstances with little to no thought. you— who always bounced back, always saw it through.

oh, but he could never be upset with you for crying. not at all.

he knows he can’t just leave you sobbing your eyes out. so, with the sensibility that he has, he gently guides you to a quiet place for you and allows you to lean against him. he’ll attempt to talk you through it, even if you don’t feel like speaking, hoping that the one-sided conversation of his ramblings will at least distract you, if not soothe you.

your head to his chest, he takes one of your hands in his, while the other gently grips your hip. tells you how brave and strong you are— even if you don’t seem particularly inclined to believe him at the moment, shooting a small glare at him through watery eyes as he says these things.

“i wasn’t patronizing you,” he says, eyebrows raising slightly as your shoulders tense, “i mean it.”

you take a deep breath, gauging the sincerity of his words, before finally relaxing.

“‘m sorry… it’s stupid— i know it is. you shouldn’t have to do this.” you sniffle.

for a moment, julian only shakes his head in response, his thumb caressing the top of your hand as he squeezes it. “but darling, i want to.”

while he’s not as attuned with your emotions as asra, julian is good at getting you to calm down. will definitely do a few breathing exercises with you to help you ground yourself, in between his affirmations and reassurances.

▸ is it really all that surprising that LUCIO is completely clueless? in his eyes, everything was going completely fine for you two seconds ago— or so it seemed. here he was, just coming by to check on you, only to watch you crumple into yourself, hiding your face in your hands as you muttered a half-hearted “go away.”

he’s too stubborn to listen to that. besides, even he knows he’d be a massive asshole if he just left you like this. instead, lucio sits right next to you, shoulder pressed up to yours, and asks about what happened. perhaps pester is a better word.

while not intentionally rude, he’s slightly dismissive of the situation at first, wondering why in the world something so trivial would matter so much to you. it takes a second, but lucio backpedals on this immediately when he realizes you're not calming down, you're getting worse. your breathing grows quicker and more tears spill— you don’t even reply to him. oopsies. silent comfort it is.

he’s not completely useless. instead of using words, he’ll put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, allowing you to cry it out for as long as you need. part of you wants to question when he gained the capacity to shut up— but you don’t feel the need to be particularly snarky at the moment. he’s trying his best to be sweet to you.

will be more attentive for the days after, assuring you that you needn’t give into the urge to “toughen up” when he’s around.

“stay soft, i can fight.” he grins, giving you a wink that makes you roll your eyes at him almost instinctively.

still, the tiny laugh that escapes your lips ends up betraying any sort of exasperation you meant to convey as you playfully hit his bicep as you tell him to quit. was his tone light hearted? yes. was he kidding? of course not. 

▸ there’s a moment where your lip quivers and your eyes water up that makes MURIEL feel like he’s looking into a reflection of himself somehow. his heart sinks completely at the sight of you breaking down, as he searches for the right thing to say.

he’s flooded with relief when you make an attempt to speak first, even if it’s just you stumbling over your words to lie directly to his face.

you take in a shaky breath, awkwardly shrinking yourself away by crossing your arms. “it’s fine, it doesn’t matter—”

“it matters to me.” he replies softly.

muriel is much better at listening than he is at speaking in these situations, so he allows you to vent all you need as you cry. you feel these emotions so deeply, so strongly— he wonders how you managed for so long concealing these feelings.

“yeah… i get it.” he murmurs, nodding when you rant. to his horror, the tone comes out much more blunt than intended— almost sarcastic— but you know that he understands the minute you look into his eyes. he’s nothing but honest.

after a moment of silence, he asks what you need. you don’t verbalize, instead opting for awkwardly gesture with open arms, half expecting him to hesitate at your request. instead, much to your surprise and his he simply brings you close and sets you on his lap. holding you in his arms like he’s afraid you might break if he tightens the embrace any further, muriel hugs you like you’re the most precious thing in the universe.

leans more on acts of service as a form of comfort as well. will bring you water, blankets— will even brave the market to buy you your favorite snack. anything for you.

▸ NADIA’s first attempt is to deal with it logically. initially, she asks you a lot of questions, asks what she can do better— but ceases the minute you struggle to respond, only shaking your head while the words incoherently fall from your lips between sobs.

she sighs, realizing her short-comings. now isn’t the time for problem solving. you need comfort. “forgive me, lovely. i didn’t mean to upset you further.”

LUCIO TAKE FUCKING NOTES.

her embrace is loving. it almost feels like she’s trying to shield you from the world and it’s harshness towards you. nadia plants a kiss to your temple before allowing you to rest your head on her shoulder. as you stay in her arms, she rubs your back, promising that everything will be alright.

she’ll make sure of it too. will 100% throw a sharp glare at anyone who accidentally intrudes on this moment.

▸ it’s almost instinctual, the way PORTIA responds. you haven’t said a thing, yet she notes the way your hands begin trembling, eyes brimming with tears. she immediately gets protective, asking which idiot made you feel so upset with full intention to beat their ass if she ever crossed paths with them— but questions no further when you don’t reply.

physically affectionate as ever, with your permission, portia kisses your tears away, pressing her lips to your face sweetly as she cradles it in her hands.

will not baby you for being sensitive, but will grow more defensive of you. of course she knows you can handle yourself like you keep on reminding, but you’ve been doing it for so long. too long. shows you that she’s right there to support you no matter what, always on your side.

" you've got our love "

— reblogs always appreciated!

[perpetualprocrastinationisme]

Is Ty in Denial Over Livvy?

Artist: Charlie Bowater

I think it's worth noting that what Ty is currently experiencing re: Livvy is not grief but denial. - Cassie Answering Asks on Tumblr

I think this really points to what one of the biggest points of tension in the TWP series is going to be: the denial that Ty might be in over Livvy. This is how Cassie answered a question about why Kit left without saying goodbye to the Blackthorns in QOAAD. But is Ty really in denial? That's what I'm trying to ascertain by analyzing the passages below.

PS. If you do find a ghost, treat it kindly. I don’t think all ghosts mind being ghosts, as long as people are nice to them.

So this is how Ty ended a letter to Emma and Julian in SOBH. I feel like this shows us that to Ty, the real reason that someone may not like being a ghost is that they're ignored and not treated well. So the answer to the issue with Livvy is just to treat her the best he possibly can, to always be there for her. (Also, just to say this, Ty is one of the most sincerely kind characters in the whole TSC universe if you really examine scenes that include him. So, I also just think this quote stems from who Ty is at heart). But is simply treating Livvy well enough? Does that meet her needs? We see Livvy's perspective in GOTSM here:

There was so little to feel. For months now she had been less than a shadow at Ty's heels. Oh, why couldn't Livvy do the same? Why was she the only one who could not return and take up her life again?

While I do think that being kind to ghosts like Livvy or Rupert is important, the primary injustice here is that Livvy gets to be almost human, just without the parts that make life most worth living. Here we see that she continuously feels this sense of unfairness, why does everybody else get to live their lives except for her? Why is there so little for her to feel?

Here's another of Ty's perspectives on Livvy's resurrection:

She said a lot of reassuring things. But it still gave me a cold feeling, which I think is my body telling my brain that I’m afraid. If Julian and Emma found out about Livvy, they wouldn’t just be angry. They’d feel like they had to do something, like lay her to rest. People don’t think ghosts can be happy, but Livvy is happy. She helps me with work and she tells me advice for Anush (he has a crush on Rayan’s sister Nasha) and when we’re alone we play games or I read to her. She can’t do everything but why would being all the way dead be better? Everyone calls it “rest” but no one really knows, do they?

I feel like with Ty we consistently see this idea that Livvy being a ghost is better than nothing. In QOAAD when Kit tells him that he doesn't think Livvy would want to be resurrected Ty tells him that he doesn't think Livvy would want to be dead either. To me, this isn't rooted in Ty selfishly wanting Livvy back. On the contrary, I feel like Ty sees it this way because Livvy has always been there for him, making life better. So, for Ty, what if this is his way of making Livvy's life better? After all, wouldn't being a ghost that can still see be on Earth be better than the nothingness of death? Here's another of Livvy's perspectives to compare it to:

The sun was rising, and she tried to feel its warmth - something other than its brightness. To warm herself. What she would have given to feel that wet velvet crust of the top layer of sand under her feet, to feel the cold grittiness of the sand underneath change in temperature as the warmth of her human feet soaked away. To scream herself hoarse, knowing that no one would hear over the roar of the surf. She squatted and tried with ever particle of herself to pick up a piece of beach glass. But it was a useless endeavor. She had no more effect on the world than a fragment of dream.

I believe this scene really showcases one of the two worst parts about Livvy becoming a ghost: her ability to take action. When looking at Livvy's character in the first two books it is evident that she wants to take care of people and be able to have an effect on people. In Lord of Shadows we see her say this:

"I realized something," she said. "I want to be like you, Jules. Not this second, not right now, but someday. I want to take care of people, other Shadowhunters, people who need me. I want to run an Institute."

And I do realize that Livvy can still help people and have a powerful effect on the world as a ghost, I mean she's already found useful information about the Cohort and TWP isn't even here yet. She's just not able to help people in the way I think she feels called to do. Livvy very much seems like a hands-on, people's person. As a ghost she can't be that. She can't run an Institute, she can't even pick things up. You can very much see that she feels useless in GOTSM. But I think we see the thing she struggles with the most in these excerpts:

You can see ghosts but you cannot see me. Not when I come to sit by you while you sleep. Not when I am in the movements of the shadows across the lawn, or the twitch of a curtain. You cannot hear me, even though I am speaking to you because I have things I need to tell you.

It was wonderful to see how settled in Helen and Aline were, but it was also all extremely unfair, Livvy felt. Everyone else got to come home. Mark. Helen. Even Ty would come home someday. But she would never truly be home again.

Family is the most important thing to all of the Blackthorns, it seems like they base almost all of their actions around each other. I think what tortures Livvy is being able to see this family she loves so much but never being able to interact with them again except for Ty. Never getting to be a big and little sister. It's a vital part of Livvy's life that she has lost for the time being.

I want to say this though, I think it may be easy to look at all of these scenes and immediately say that Ty is in denial about Livvy's true situation and feelings, but I don't think that is true. Look at this scene:

Ty said, "I'm so sorry, Livvy." "For what?" she said. "For doing this to you," he said.

I think Ty realizes what all Livvy is missing, for the most part. I think it also really hurts him. He just feels that what she does have is better than what she could have in death.

All of these scenes also beg this question, would Livvy feel like this if she figures out the ins and outs of being a ghost or if she could show herself to her entire family? Like, when she actually sees the power she has for good in her current state as a ghost? I ask because of this scene:

"Oh, Ty," she said. "I would have done it for you. It isn't a thing that should be done, but I would have done it anyway. And so we would be in just the same mess we're in now. Besides, I think I'm getting the hand of this ghost thing."

Conclusion: I feel like Ty may have been in denial in the beginning but I don't think he is anymore. I also think that Livvy will have an easier time as a ghost as things progress in TWP. I also feel like Livvy has the potential to be a huge force for good, a protector, in TWP and I sincerely hope that happens. However, I do think this will be a major point of tension between Ty and other characters in TWP, especially Kit. I feel that many of them, especially the older Blackthorn siblings, will want to help Livvy be released into the afterlife instead of staying as a ghost. I think the finale of the entire series will reveal the fate of Livvy: whether she can stay as a ghost, has to be released into the afterlife, or gets to come back fully human.

Edit: By not being in denial, I mean that I think Ty understands that he did wrong and regrets resurrecting Livvy. The issue is that he doesn’t regret it enough to talk to Magnus or one of his siblings to try to either release Livvy or bring her back fully. To figure out the best way forward with Livvy, is what I guess I’m trying to say. And also, while I think Livvy could be a force for good and could acclimate to being a ghost, I also think there’s just as good a chance that she could go into one of her more volatile states. This would lead to some really awful stuff happening and could even be the crux of Ty and Kit’s plot in TWP.

Also, sorry for the ridiculously long post, it felt kind of like a really poorly written essay. I hope it was coherent and that you enjoyed it though :) Here's some beautiful Kit and Ty art for the road.

Artist: @camisala01-art

[deathlooksgoodonyou-if]

How would the ROs react to a shy MC just nervously asking for a kiss while blushing up a storm and avoiding making eye contact with the ROs?

Julian looks down at you, trying to hold back the budding smile on his face. By the gods, he wants to tease you and he will. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Could you speak a little louder?" He cups his ear. When you repeat yourself he merely hums, wagging a finger. "What was that? Speak up, love." He snorts at the sight of you struggling. "As much as I want to tease you more," his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "I will give you what you want. Just this once."

Julianne smiles at the sight of you. She wonders if you're aware of how beautiful you look when you are flustered. "Aw, you want a kiss?" She hums teasingly, gaze soft. "Say please."

". . .Please?" You say, breathlessly as you fidget with the loose threads of your clothes.

She swallows as the word tumbles out of your pretty mouth. That shouldn't have the effect on her it does. She caves in. Like she always does.

Dylan frowns at the sight of you nervous. Something twisted in him likes that he still manages to have this effect on you, though he quickly squashes down that train of thought.

He takes a step closer to you, cupping your cheeks, lifting your head to meet your gaze. "You want me to kiss you?" He murmurs, soothing your nerves. At your nod, he presses his lips against yours. It's slow, it's sensual, it's tantalizing, it's tender. Its everything you have ever wanted. "Another one?" He murmurs, your lips glistening from the aftermath. Without waiting for your response, he kisses you one more time. Then again. And again. Till you're breathless and heaving. Till you forget your name.

Warren's blinks, stiffening at the request. His lips quirk upwards when the realisation sets in and he cups your right cheek in his hand, planting a kiss to your forehead. He laughs at your pout, the sound throaty and warm. "I said I wanted a kiss."

"You didn't specify where."

You tap your lips with your forefinger, heat pooling in your chest, right where your heart resides.

He smiles, his hand wrapping around the back of neck as he leans in, pressing his mouth on yours.

Aiden raises a amused brow at your flushed countenance. A smug smirk tugs at his lips as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "You know you don't need to ask, sweetheart." He looks at through his lashes. It always made you envious. He has beautiful lashes. His hand curls around in your hair, pulling you in. He bumps his nose against you gently, a rare fond smile on his face. "Next time, just kiss me instead." He does give you what you want. But also much, much more.

Mia tries not to laugh. It's cute. You are cute. Unfortunately, for you she likes to torment you. She places a finger under your chin, lifting your head to meet her eyes. "Eyes on me." Her long nail traces a path from your chin to your jaw to the back of your neck, the gesture making goosebumps rise on your arms. "Now, what are the magic words?" She teases. She wants to give it to you as much as you but she won't. Not until you say it properly. Not until you're begging and whining.

Jessica gazes at you and her expression softens. She cups your face in her hands, her thumb under your eyes, caressing your cheekbones. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll give it to you." She murmurs softly against your lips, giving you what your desire. Her lips trail down wet kisses from your jaw, to your neck. She sighs, closing her eyes, burying her face in neck. "Now, I am the one who needs more." You think you hear the smile in her voice. "You truly are the worst."

Heat rises up Heather's neck. A choked laugh espaces her throat and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her eyes. Or she tries, since it stubbornly falls back to frame the side of her face. "You want me to kiss you?" She swallows. It's silly, really. She shouldn't be feeling so giddy. You have kissed before but it's always as exhilarating as the last time. "You know, you didn't need to ask." She breathes, her voice rising by an octave. "You can always kiss me whenever you like. . ." She trails off, licking her lips. Trembling fingers, curl around your wrist, guiding your hand to her right cheek. She kisses your palm, looking at you, cheeks flushed. "C'mere."

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

For full headcanons: What do you think a lazy day with the M6 would look like? Say that somehow MC and their love interest have a free day all to themselves to just relax.

The Arcana HCs: Lazy Days with M6

Julian

He's been looking forward to this. Did he tell you that he would try to sleep in? Maybe. Does he succeed? Unfortunately not

However, not needing to head straight out the door to the clinic means that you get to sleep in and wake up to the sight of your relaxed doctor leisurely sipping some coffee in bed next to you

As much as Julian savors the delights of domestic life, he's quick to get a little stir crazy. How about an outing together?

For a dramatically roguish nerd like him, an "outing" could mean getting dragged to a leech convention, watching a play, doing something legally not-so-recommended, or visiting a library

Either way, since the point of the day is to be lazy, he's more likely to want to head home come evening rather than stay out

Does he enjoy social time? Sure, but even more than that, he cherishes you. He can meet you for dinner at the tavern any day, but he doesn't get every evening completely free like this

Dinner is peaceful, intimate, and slower than usual because he insists on eating by candlelight which means not being able to see your plate very well

The way his eyes feast on you instead of the meal makes up for it

Asra

Nobody can match this magician when it comes to lazy days

They. Are. Sleeping. In. They aren't even going to think about getting up until the sun is high enough to fill the room with golden light and the street outside your window is bustling with activity

Even then, the tranquility stays. There's no part of the day when the pace picks up. He'll move with you slowly from the bed to the kitchen with a sleepy smile, prioritizing snuggles over cooking

And that's how the day goes - lazing from the cushions to the kitchen for more tea and snacks, trading silly stories and engaging in the occasional tickle/pillow fight between books

Asra will start at least one experimental craft, only to put it down halfway finished because focusing on you is way more enjoyable

Right around sunset, they'll need a change of scenery. That will most likely take the form of taking you by the hand and pulling you into their oasis for some prolonged snuggles and whimsy time

However, being predictably unpredictable, there is the 25% chance that he'll decide he doesn't want to keep a lazy pace all day after all, and pull you out into the darkening streets for an adventure

Either way, it ends back in bed, gazing out the window at the stars

Nadia

Oh, she needs this and she's been planning for it for weeks

Everything is set up ahead of time. All pressing matters have been dealt with, and she's delegated responsibilities so that unless the world starts to end, someone else will have to handle it

She is going to indulge in every relaxing moment she's been putting off and she's going to do it without lifting a finger and you are going to join her for every blissful moment

She rarely has time to sleep in and hold you, so she is taking her fill

Breakfast appears at the door to her chambers when she rings her bell, and after sitting you in her lap and taking turns feeding each other, she's drawing you into her private bath all set up for spa day

With her mind carefully blocked off of work, she'll turn her attentions to you. How have you been doing? What's been on your mind? Tell her something about you she hasn't heard yet ~

Since you can't spend all day in the spa, she does take a couple hours in the afternoon to herself in her tower. Your company is delightful and refreshing, but even she needs a moment alone

Dinner happens on the veranda, just the two of you in a nook hidden from view, lounging on cushions and savoring a slow night

Muriel

Lazy days ... kind of happen whenever one of you needs them to happen. Living self-sustainably in the woods has its perks

At the same time, there's some daily duties that just can't be skipped - feeding the chickens, drawing water, etc

Lazy days are what happens when one of you looks at the other of you and you both know you need a break. A day without all the added routine tasks, a day to just breathe for a little bit

Lazy days start by spending the day before getting ready to rest

Waking up is one quick trip to throw a bucket of feed at the chickens before darting back inside to warm up next to the veritable furnace that Muriel becomes under a blanket

Breakfast happens late, sitting by the fire instead of at the table, slicing the loaf of bread between you as you want more and toasting it idly while Inanna steals the crumbs

If it's a chilly, rainy day, you spend it adding logs to the fire from the pile you built up yesterday and curling up with each other under the furs. On sunny days, you might lie down outside

Maybe you talk, maybe you sleep, maybe you work on a craft - but it passes in peace and quiet and grounded, steadfast love

Portia

Does Portia need a lazy day? YES. Is Portia good at lazy days? Not. At. All.

Sometimes existing in Portia's presence means idly wondering if she subconsciously found the secret to perpetual motion and she's very busy trying not to forget it. She just never stops going!

Lazy days happen when you and the Countess gang up and make sure she has 24 hours of a clear schedule when she's on the verge of burning out and is in desperate need of a reset

The day starts by dragging her back into bed and telling her she's not allowed to make breakfast until she's slept as long as possible

Breakfast itself consists of trying to help her snap out of "work work work must get the next task done" mode while you brew some tea. The most effective way to do so is to put Pepi in her lap

After that, the day is delightful. Spending the rest of the morning and early afternoon lying on a picnic blanket in the garden, reading books and eating snacks and watching Pepi chase butterflies

The evening always involves visiting Mazelinka for family time. (It's also the best way to make sure Portia doesn't have to cook)

And nighttime - nighttime is for fireflies and pillow forts and kisses

Lucio

Lucio likes suggesting lazy days every day

Which means that, when the time does come to have one, the first word out of his mouth is "FINALLY."

He's been ready to take a slow day for weeks!! He needs this!!

Sleeping in is essential. If you try to get him out of bed before noon when there isn't a reason to he will start a riot

Went out the night before and maxed out his budget buying all the pastries on sale at the end of the day. Breakfast consists of him wolfing down sugary flaky dough at 1 PM, without leaving bed

He got them for you too - which is how you're presented with the sight of him beaming, shirtless, sitting in a ray of afternoon light with the sheets rumpled around him as he holds out a bite for you

The sugar high is enough to make him antsy. Yes, this is a lazy day, but lazy days are supposed to be enjoyable, and is a day even enjoyable if you haven't gone out to enjoy yourself?

Luxuriates in taking twice as much time to do his eyeliner

Saunters around the square of wherever you're visiting with your hand in his, pointedly ignoring the board of job requests

Stays up super late to savor every last moment of the day off

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Four

TW: NSFW, inappropriate use of handcuffs, angst

Tom picks you up from your shift, and you ride in silence. The uncomfortable, we need to talk, prickly silence that has your bones feeling weirdly placed and your teeth achy with unsaid words. His mouth and your mouth combined? Quiet between the two? Strange. You both know something’s up. Maybe even more than one something. 

When you get into your place, he goes to use the restroom, and you meander around cleaning a little bit—putting some dishes away and rearranging your coat rack and making sure your recently neglected plants aren’t dying dry deaths. 

“Sorry, guys,” you whisper, filling them up and eyeing the leaves for any browning spots, spraying the orchids’ tangled roots with water and a little plant food. You pause at the dark purple orchid from Julian, realizing there’s still a smear of your dried blood on the pot. Roses love to eat blood and bone. You’re not so sure about orchids. It’s hard not to think of Julian, when you look at the beautiful plant, but you can’t quite bring yourself to get rid of it yet. It’s not the orchid’s fault, after all.  

“You just keep getting cuter,” Tom says, smirking from the kitchen doorway. 

“They’re living things,” you reply, sticking your tongue out. 

“You know, I worked a case once where a lady had a lot of plants.”

You shoot him a raised brow. “Was she poisoning someone with one?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, that fast growing, uncut dark shag probably due for a haircut soon. Shame, you kinda like it a little longer. “See, it just makes me even more suspicious that you know that.” 

“Am I a suspect now, Officer Ludlow?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Easy, Poison Ivy, don’t make me get the cuffs.” 

“Poison Ivy, really?” 

He shrugs. “What? She’s hot. You’re hot. You both love plants. Got that fiery temper.” Wink.

“And you’re what, Batman?” You crinkle your nose at the comparison. Bruce Wayne ain’t got nothin on Tom Ludlow. Plus, you were never a big fan. Now, Punisher, he’s someone you can admire.

“No. I’m a side character. Poison Ivy’s boyfriend.” 

Do not engage. Do not interact. Do not make eye contact. Did he just call himself… You haven’t had a boyfriend in what, years? Tom Ludlow? Boyfriend? Dating? Your brain might be short circuiting, a rattling tool box of metal getting zapped with a cattle prod, and you stand there, frozen, looking dumb for a good minute until you can compartmentalize and rationalize. 

Tom Ludlow hasn’t really left since that first night you invited him in. His clothes are in your dirty laundry, his shoes are sitting next to yours on the entryway rug, making your sneakers look like kids shoes in comparison, his amazing smell is on everything, his indent is on your bed. He’s just settled himself right in here, and you didn’t even notice. 

“What’s a throw down?” You ask, stupidly, suddenly, not sure why you pick that moment to inquire about this. 

To your credit, it does take him off guard and make him forget about the whole boyfriend thing… For now. “It’s a gun dirty cops carry. Something to throw away in case they shoot someone...unlawfully.”

“Is that…what you have on your ankle?” 

His frown is like a thunderhead, and he probably would have started yelling, if not for how tiny your voice sounded, and the big-eyed bunny look on your face. “No, baby. That’s my backup. In case I lose my other gun. Which, I have. Why are you asking me this?” 

Oh fuck, this was a bad, bad decision. Maybe you should mention the dating conversation again? You turn to face him, trying to seem less suspicious and probably just ranking yourself even higher on his list of suspects. “Brixton, that guy that interviewed me, said you fired it in the store.” 

Nice save—never mind, looks like you’ve personally signed Brixton’s death certificate yourself. You jump in to appease that hostile look curtaining over his face. “It's just..I feel like there’s something up, Tom. Something you’re not telling me?”

You’re such a hypocrite. 

“What does that have to do with my backup?” He asks, great fucking detective that he is, and you’re caught like a rabbit in a metal fox trap, ready to gnaw off its own leg just to get free. And maybe, judging by that suspicious look on his face, you should start digging in sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You throw your hands in the air, maybe a little too dramatically. “I’m just trying to piece this whole thing together, y'know? And if you’re not telling me anything, how can I do that? I saw his face—the man who attempted to murder a cop in cold blood—and I’m scared.” None of that was particularly a lie, but you still feel bad for freaking out on him. 

You feel even worse, when his standoffish attitude melts immediately for you. “Shit. I’m sorry, baby, come here,” he says, holding out his arms to you. 

Once upon a time, with anyone else, you would be an ornery shit and refuse the respective olive branch. But with Tom…you melt too, and before you know it you’ve crossed the tiny kitchen to fill his arms. 

“You’ve taken this whole thing like such a champ, I fucking forget you’re not used to getting shot at,” he says to the top of your head. “M’sorry, baby. I’m working on figuring this all out. I promise you. I’ve got some leads. I gotta find a guy…” He shuts himself up out of habit, not used to sharing details of an ongoing investigation with a civilian. But then he seems to think better of it, considering you’re right in the fucking middle of it too. “I gotta find this guy who might know the shooters. I’m waiting on a call. Got a lead through an inmate in County.”

“Why would an inmate help you?” you mumble into the solid plane of his chest. 

“Because I put him there, and he’s not gettin’ out unless he gets me that name.”

You blink at that, craning your neck to look up at him. “Is that legal?” 

He looks down at you with that Come on look that makes you feel more than a little foolish. 

“Oh.”

You feel the rumble of his amusement from deep in his chest, more than hear it. 

“Is that…always how you really get things done?” you ask, at risk of being made to feel even dumber. “Like, are the official channels really that useless?”

“Pretty much, sweetheart. Learned it the hard way a long time ago. Too many bureaucrats in the LAPD. Not enough people actually willing to get the job done.”

With a long sigh you nod, utterly reluctant to vacate the depression between his pecs. You’re pretty sure it was made just for your head. 

You guess you're about to embark on some back channels of your own to keep him out of trouble. The thought of what Julian might have in store for you makes a shudder of revilement run through you. Tom cranes back to study you, those hawkish eyes narrowed. He knows something’s up. He’s too smart, and you can’t fathom how you’re going to trick him, even if it is for his own good.

You suppose your best bet is distracting him–so you stand on tip toe, and press your lips to his. 

***

He just will not drop it.

He drives you absolutely wild. To the edge of your sanity. To the brink of death. 

This man’s tongue should be considered a lethal weapon. It’s an absolute menace. 

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, yet you can’t help but think to yourself, this is how you die.

“Tom…” you beg. “It’s too much!”

You would have even tried to get up, to get away, to flee, you’re that desperate, but he’s been holding you down with those big beautiful hands, and you are just a quivering mess of a woman at his mercy. Plus, he’s got you cuffed to the post of your bed.

“You can cum anytime you want, sweet girl,” he tells you. “You know what I want to hear.”

“This is…interrogation…under duress.”

“Oooo, someone’s been studying up.”

“Hey, I know…stuff.”

He’s changed tactics, making slow, soft circles with his tongue, just shy of where you need him most. The keening whine it tears from your hoarse throat makes him chuckle against you; a deep, bone-melting sound that you think Satan could take some notes from. 

“You know what I want to hear.”

I’m yours.

“Torturing me into saying it won’t make it true.”

“I already know it’s true, sweetheart. Just want to hear you say it.”

You whimper, your head thrown back into the pillows. So keyed up yet exhausted, too stubborn for your own good. You sense Tom looking up at you, his cheek resting on the soft pillow of your inner thigh. 

“Scare you that much, baby?”

You have to try twice before you can find your voice, suddenly feeling like you downed a fat gulp of Mojave sand. “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

“Now?”

“No time like the present.”

He climbs your body, and you are relieved until he sheathes himself inside you, just like that, like this is the place where he belongs. You desperately try to grind against him, knowing you are so close to the edge, but he just pins you with his thick cock kissing your cervix and his elbows on either side of you. 

He kisses your forehead, and its all so tender you could cry.

“You know you’re safe with me?”

“I know.” You mean it, too, even if you sound pitiful.

He sweeps your hair from your face with gentle fingers, looking down at you with a little smile that wrecks your heart. It simply was not fair.

“Then tell me what’s going on.” You’re not sure if he means your neuroses in general, or your earlier almost-slip, or…who knows? Discussing any and all of it aloud terrifies you. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Finally, you just frown, and fall back on your favorite word of all time.

“No.”

Miraculously, he doesn’t get mad, like every other man you’ve ever known would have. He just seems to think you’re cute. “You know what?” He muses, tracing your collarbones and making you shiver, “I think,” he follows the dip of your skin, down between your breasts, then under, slow and soft, over your rib cage as you make little strangled gasps, attempting unsuccessfully to writhe—get him frustrated enough to move. “I think you like it when I tease all your worries away.” 

Why does that infuriate you even more? “This isn’t teasing.” Your whining delights him and humiliates you. “This is tortu-ah.” 

He has your pert right nipple tugged between two fingers, rolling the sensitive flesh against rough calluses. The sensation swells into your pussy, and she clenches, exacting her own form of vengeance on Tom, for once on the same side as you—the cum or die side. 

A breath of air hisses from between his teeth, and you grin up at him in triumph. Sure, you’re the one handcuffed to the bed being edged out of your mind, but you know underneath all that cool, collected facade this affects him just as much as it does you. 

“You haven’t seen torture yet.” He says, his smile turning malicious.

“What?” You pant. “Can’t help it that my pussy loves your cock so much, baby.”

He turns peach again, skin absolutely betraying his attitude, and you let loose a sharp giggle that turns to a groaning snarl when he pumps inside of you, slow, not enough. The rhythm he adopts after a minute or two of equally frustrating practice is made for your destruction; more frustrating than just holding him inside, unmoving. 

That languid squelching rub, the slow strokes that make your cunt flood and fatten with plentiful cum, yield to and accommodate its bulky visitor like a good little host should—all of it gets both of you gnashing your teeth and growling like beasts.

In this feral, viscous slide of your bodies, Tom takes your mouth instead of talking, teeth and tongue and spit. None of it would be pretty from an onlooker's perspective, you think, as he swallows the bottom of your face into his big jaws, but fuck, it’s just what you need from him while he works your cunt to a slow, brutal end. 

La petite mort, your brain thinks, surfacing from the sluggish black haze for a moment before you lose it entirely again to a violent, slow orgasm on just his cock. You barely feel the scratchy tickle of his stubble as he buries his face into your neck, biting and licking at your collar, and ending right along with you. 

“Trickster,” he mumbles, hips twitching in finality, length already softening and settling inside you. 

“Who me?” You giggle. 

“Minx,” he growls. 

“Never,” you tease. 

“One of these days I’m gonna get you to say it baby. Might as well just get it over with.” 

“Say what?” You ask, now just trying to piss him off. 

He nibbles the skin of your neck, and you giggle-flinch away. 

“I have to tickle you?” He asks. 

“Swear to God, Tom, I will kill you.” Then, you pout. “These cuffs are kinda uncomfy.” 

He sighs and unlocks you from your metal, cold bondage, then rubs the blood and warmth back into your wrists. “Can I ask you something?” 

You flick your head at him, curious, and push the sweaty hair from his forehead. “Yeah, of course.”

“Will you take a little vacation with me? After I’m done with this case? I’d like to take you somewhere. Just us. Anywhere you want. Beach, mountains. I know we’re already right next to the beach, but maybe one with calmer water? They have some nice little bungalows in Florida.” He’s cute, when he’s all rambling and shy and flustered. 

You lean up to kiss him, halting his nerves. “Yeah, I will.” 

“Really?” He asks, grin big and goofy and only missing a long tongue hanging from the side. 

He makes you laugh. The dichotomy of this man. God, you want to eat him. “Yeah. I have unused vacation time anyway. As long as you promise not to secretly be a serial killer.” 

He snorts, probably thinking of the same image that you are: Bull-in-a-china-shop, brutish, forceful, loud Tom trying to be sneaky and malicious in any capacity? It’s just not believable. What you see is what you get with this long, bronze man currently walking butt ass naked to the bathroom and retrieving a damp, warm towel for you to clean up with. 

***

“So, where do you wanna go?” He asks, once you're settled in his arms with the blanket wrapping you up. You think it’s just way too adorable, how he fusses over you. Pushes your hair back from your face, makes sure you’re adjusted and comfortable, makes sure your toes are covered, kisses your forehead. 

“I’ve never been to the mountains,” you suggest, nuzzling your face into his chest and inhaling, trying to memorize him—this moment. 

“Mountains it is,” he grins. “We’ll go hiking.” 

“Do you think we’ll see woodland critters?” You ask hopefully. 

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, “I’ll protect you.”

You laugh into his skin. “Tom, I want to see them. I’m not scared.” 

“What about, I dunno, bears?” 

“Bears are cute.” 

He gives you an incredulous look, as if you’ve really caught him off guard with that one. “You’re something else.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Am I gonna have to hold you back from trying to pet a 700 pound grizzly?” He asks, fingers playing with your shoulder blades. 

You pretend to think about it. “No, but maybe a raccoon….?” 

“Oh my god, go to bed,” he chuckles. “I’m rethinking the mountains.” 

“Oh c’mon!” 

It takes a good hour for you both to get tired enough to fall asleep. The witty banter keeps you awake, like you’re at a teenage slumber party with your best friend. It’s you that drifts off first, because if you don’t get your nine hours you emulate Grumpy from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.