#honestly i think he could perform anything well even queen

[incorrectplanet]

star masters: can you perform under pressure?

jay: no, but i could take a stab at ‘bohemian rhapsody’.

[hobisstar]

still with you |yandere!jjk x reader

Summary: things are not the same… they met. Now yn fears her life around him. He acts as though nothing happened. To him shes still the love of his life.

Warnings: jungkook makes yn seem delusional, cursing, mentions of smut, kidnap, harm to others, Someone is definitely being threatby jungkook, for sure.

Something was telling yn that maybe everything that happened to between her and jungkook was just all a dream. Tom, doesnt recall Jungkook acting weird or strange. Everything just seemed off. Weird.

The song was done but the damage was still there.

Whats even worst is they have to do a duet live tonight.

This will be the first time she has seen him since their encounter in her house.

“Hey! jungkook is live” Tom said showing yn his phone. Jesus even his name made her uncomfortable.

“Oh my collab? Yes, we get to see eachother later. Army, are you attending?” Jungkook smiled and chuckled with all the fans in the comments saying yes, of course, you two are my favorite, y/nnie 8th member. Things like that.

That would’ve made you happy but it just didn’t make things better. Was he pretending that he what happened just didn’t happen?

“I hope you all will enjoy it just as much as i will”

Scared shitless was definitely what you could describe yn at the moment she didnt know how to react to seeing him.

Its been a month since then and the man she has been avoiding is going to be in the same dressing room. This definitely wasnt set up.

While getting her hair done, she got notice that Jungkook wanted a practice.

Of course he does, he needs all the reasons to see her.

Honestly, its been killing Jungkook that he didn’t take her away for himself that night. The only thing is that as two public figures, that would only spark controversy. Where did the queen of youtube and indie music go? Disappearing after a hit collab would only make her look money hunger and Jungkook could never let his wife have such bad things said about her. Ever.

The way Jungkook feels should be written in the world record for the most delusional lover.

A lot has happened in a month for him. He definitely didnt get like 4 small hidden tattoos in his sleeve. It was 8. 8 tattoos of small things that represent yn. He got the words ‘love, mine, yours, hurt, intimacy, weakened, tenderness and attached.’ He loves her. Shes his. He is hers. Hurting that he cant see her. The intimacy he feels for her can never be weakened. Jungkooks tenderness is attached to her love.

It may not make sense but I promise you, its feels like a message to him. Those are the words she makes him feel.

And if he doesnt get to show her those things any time soon, he might actually snap.

While practicing on the stage, his heart was racing. He couldnt wait to see her walk on stage so heavenly. Just then there she was. In just some tights and a baggy shirt. Hair pinned up but man even in comfort she was beautiful.

Jungkook looked like he saw the love of his life. If only yn didnt look like she feared for hers. Yn was scared to even be scared. To even show how scared she was.

“ keep it calm, yn… you got this…” she whispered to herself. “ its only one performance. After that you are good. Just avoid him for now.”

As if that would go past Him. “ Ynnie~” he sang and smiled brightly waving at her from the stage. Yn waved back while standing next to tom below the stage.

God, Jungkook hated tom. As if you didnt know that already.

he felt as though he was in the way more and more each time. Why are they so close? What cause hes her manager? So? They dont have to be close because of that.

I know what you all have been waiting on. What happened that night? Well Jungkook knew that she wouldnt just allow him to go with her or anything like that.

the way they reacted to meeting each other you would think they never seen each other. But thats not half the truth.

Jungkook, as a huge fan, of course hes been to her concerts when he was younger. Front row. Maybe this is what started this weird obsession with her?

He doesn’t remember when it started but hes glad it did. Every weverse live he does, yn’s music or simply a youtube video is playing in the background. It’s become so normal that even the army are used to it. They support it but they dont know how deep this goes.

“ tom needs to be dead…” jungkook thought to himself while he watched them.

“He will die…”

It was time for the performance and Jungkook was ready. But once again, he saw Tom standing next to stage talking to yn.

Without thinking he walked up behind him and from where Tom was standing it was a area for sound and devices and stage material was at. Falling from there would cause serious injury…

5 month injury… maybe death.

Jungkook smirked and instantly pushed Tom watching him fall into the pit. Quickly he acted as though he just got there and he called someone for help.

I saw everything..

“Im so sorry this happened to you Tom…” yn stated sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed.

“ Im fine, ynnie. Its just a few ribs and a leg. Doc said ill be good in a few weeks. How was the performance?”

Tom was such a sweet guy. No matter how much he got hurt he still didnt care about himself. Yn hates it but loves it.

“Are you kidding me? I was worried the entire time. I wanted to go with you on that ambulance- “ right when yn was about to speak about the accident more, in walks what seems to be a sad Jungkook.

Yn couldn’t believe her eyes. He has the audacity to show his face in this room, when HE is the reason Tom is hurt? Oh she was so piss she felt the steam coming out of her ears.

“Kook! Just in time! I called you so you could take her home? I would’ve done it but… physical cant.” Tom stated smiling lightly.

Whipping her head to Tom then to Jungkook.

If only he knew… he is the reason for all of this mess.

“Oh no i can call my friend to come get me-“

“No need. Im already here and its not a hassle. I dont mind taking you… home.” Looking back at Jungkook she saw him smiling.

Maybe because finally they can be alone together.

On the way down to the car lot, it felt like deja vu. Again yn is in a car lot scared but this time its with jungkook because of jungkook.

yn was thinking smarter she needed for Tom to know who pushed him. Believe her or not. She feared this would be the last time she was gonna be seen by anyone.

ynnie: T, I hope this message gets to you as as possible. Im scared… im scared that this might be the last time im ever seen in public. And i want you to know if i go missing, Jungkook is the reason why. He has this obsession over me and i think he might kidnap me… He also the reason why you are in the hospital. Read this as soon as possible..my location is on…

Pressing send she put her phone away realizing they were infront of Jungkooks car.

Wow, looks just like hers…

With precaution, she took out her pepper spray and hid it behind her purse.

Only she could save herself now..

“Wanna put your address in-“

“ im sure you dont need it, as you followed me home a few months ago…” she stated staring him. She will not hide the hate she feels for him. Jungkook simply let out a chuckle.

“Right…” he started the car and off into the night they were.

The car ride was silent. Yn was looking at her phone waiting Toms reply since she saw that hes seen it.

PING PING

In a hurry she looked at her phone and she promises she might have thrown up from what she read… it couldn’t be.

T: im so sorry

T: he told me that if i didnt give you to him i would be dead and my family would too… im sorry ynnie… im so so sorry… hes your manager now…

As if on queue… Still with you started playing on the radio. But before that she caught what the host said before that… “Yes! You heard the big news! BTS’s very own Jungkook has signed a contract with the beautiful Yn! He is now her manager and they have more songs on the way! In celebration we will play the song that started it all… Still with you!”

Looking up in pure shock and fear what she had just heard…

“ what did you do..” she mumbled feeling tears run down her face. Jungkook smiled and let out a chuckle.

“ Im starting us over. Im finally getting to have you. We made history and im so glad it wasn’t hard persuading Tom to give you over to me… he practically begged for me to take you.” He looked out the window before turning.

Yn was so lost that she didn’t even realize until now this was definitely not the way to her house.

He wasnt taking her home.

In a panic yn tried to use the pepper spraybut Jungkook quickly said “ I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We could get into a crash, my love. I dont want my lover getting hurt.” He grabbed it from her and threw it in the backseat

“ you never planned to take me home did you?” She mumbled while shaking vigorously. He hummed and nodded, “ No, I finally have you alone…

And you think i was going to just send you off? Absolutely not. Now sit back and enjoy the scenery. Youll be looking at this road a lot more on our way home…” without skipping s beat he turned up the radio and drove a little faster.

And once again Still With You… haunting her ears and soul.

If only she saw the signs then

He wouldn’t be

Still with You.

OH GOSH! If im being honest i think this part 2 might suck lol. But its out there and there is no turning back! This took me 2 days to write and hopefully its okay with you guys. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Tagging Angels: @ctrlsht

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaid Pt.7

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Sandor Clegane Smut: Praise Kink, Oral {m receiving}, Breeding Kink, Fluff. )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Wedding itself was rushed.

They received Lord and Lady Stark's blessing to use the Winterfell sept to perform the ceremony, and Septon Chayle was more than willing to help once he was convinced neither you nor Sandor were being forced against your will.

Which wasn't technically true, but honestly it just seemed easier to go with it than fight against it. If it had to be anyone, you thought as you entered the great sept decorated with carved masks of The Seven, at least it was him.

Sandor's house was too new to have a cloak to slip over your back, and even if they had it would have been in the Westerlands. Instead they used his regular riding cloak, which was warm and woolen.

The king presided over the ceremony, along with Cersei who looked as if someone was sticking a knife between her ribs to keep her there. Prince Joffery had insisted upon coming out of morbid curiosity. Perhaps he thought they would drag you into the sept kicking and screaming. Princess Marcella tailed her older brother, convinced the wedding would be a romantic affair.

"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever"

The kiss was a surprisingly soft one, his whiskers prickled your cheeks, but his lips found your almost out of instinct. They were warm and insistent. When he pulled away, you wished he hadn't.

"Congratulations, you two" Chayle nodded, gathering his official looking robes around him. "I wish you both a long and happy life together."

"Thank you, Septon." You nodded politely. Sandor didn't even acknowledge him as he left, looking to the royals with hard eyes that begged the question of "now what?"

"Well now" Robert grumbled, "That's that settled then. Right?"

"Yes, Your grace." You curtseyed meekly, tucking your small hand it to Sandor's gloved one.

"We should give you a minute." Cersei breathed, "Come darlings, the Starks are feasting us tonight we should get ready."

The matriarch led the royal family out of the sept, the door closing with an echoing clang.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, squeezing his hand slightly. "You haven't said anything."

"Fine" He nodded, "You?"

"Good." You confirmed. "You don't think they expect us to..." You led off into the open air.

Sandor grunted, "No one's going to force you to fuck me, if that's what your worried about."

"Hey" you snapped at him, pulling his arm with surprising strength so he was facing you. "First of all, No one could force me to do anything I don't want to do if they tried. Secondly, it's less the act of fucking you I'm worried about and more the complete lack of privacy."

"Oh" Sandor's brow arched, "Now she's worried about privacy. If you had thought of that before, we wouldn't be here."

You knew he was just teasing you from his tone, and you bumped him with your hip slightly. "Fuck you."

The sept door opened slightly, drawing you attention as the queen slipped through the crack.

"Your Grace" you breathed, "Are you-"

"I'm fine." She nodded, "Robert is satisfied. it seems we are off the hook for now."

She eyed the two of you together with a strange glow behind her eyes.

"Have you two...?" she tried to find the words, "I have arranged for a room below to be made up for you. I know it's not much of a wedding, but for the marriage to be legal you will have to-"

"We figured." Sandor grunted, seeming almost embarrassed.

"Sweetling," Cersei eyed you, "would you give me a minute with your husband? Alone?"

"Oh" You blinked, "I- Of course Your Grace. I'll be outside."

The pair of them watched you go before Cersei turned to The Hound with a cold look. She wanted to blame him, yet couldn't.

She wanted to punish him for getting close to you, even if it wasn't his fault.

But it would do her no good to make an enemy of him.

"Clegane, I want you to know how grateful I am for your cooperation in this."

Sandor didn't respond, not bothering to point out he didn't really have a choice in it.

"However, if the rush of things I know some details have been overlooked." Cersei continued, "How well do you know your new wife?"

"Well enough." Sandor shrugged.

"She's special, you know" Cersei impressed upon him. "As loyal as any pet and as sweet as can be. And so trusting."

Sandor's attention was on her, but Cersei couldn't tell if her words were making any impact, which was frustrating.

"If you plan to rape her tonight, I will make sure you never leave this wretched castle alive."

Sandor swallowed at this, caught fully off guard but trying hard not to show it.

"I hadn't made any such plans, Your Grace" He said stiffly, "but the night is still young."

Cersei's face twisted in rage at his implication, wanting nothing more than to have his ugly head mounted on the castle gates.

------

The room was tucked away in the lower levels of Winterfell. You had expected it to be cold, but instead it was pleasantly warm compared to the temperatures above ground.

The chamber itself was mostly empty. These rooms hadn't been used in years; the steward had assured you as you were led down the stairs by torchlight. Sandor had to duck to enter the doorway, finding you sitting on the large bed waiting for him.

"You'd think they'd have let you finish early, all things considered" You joked, moving to help him settle in. You had been sent down earlier, but mostly because queen had not yet figured out what to do with you.

You carefully helped him remove his plate armor bit by bit, until he sighed from the weight being lifted off of him.

He hadn't spoken much; he never spoke much. But particularly now it was worrying, mostly because all you wanted was to talk your nervousness away.

"Sandor?" Your hand moved from his arm to his face, "Please, talk to me. Say something, anything, if only to make me less nervous about all of this."

Sandor sighed, "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"Well." You began, "Do you want to do this tonight?"

He stopped at the question and looked at you.

"Because it's okay if you don't." You assured him, "We've been around each other for over a month and you've never tried to...Well I just thought it you wanted to, you'd have tried by now."

He considered this a moment, sitting on a spare chair to get more on your level with his legs spread out lazily. You moved closer to him as his large hands guided you between them.

"You think I haven't thought about it?" He confessed, "You think all those days you spent following me around, those nights you spent sleeping in the stables I didn't imagine dragging your foolish ass into my tent and fucking that kicked puppy look off your face?"

You flushed at this, leaning against his thigh hesitantly as if to ask permission before his hands gripped your waist and pulled you up to straddle his lap. Your toes barely scrapped the floor on either side of him.

"When you let the queen fuck you so the whole camp could hear, do you really think I was the only one who wasn't imagining making you moan like that?" He leaned forward, face less than an inch from yours. "You think when that fat fuck of a king said told us we'd be getting married, a part of me didn't say 'Fucking Finally'?"

Brushing your nose against his cheek, you felt your body begin to quiver on his lap.

"Sandor" You breathed against his ear, "Gods, hold me."

He obeyed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body to his tightly. You breathed in his scent of leather and smoke, hands crawling up and down his back and shoulders to memorize every ridge and groove of his muscled body.

Slowly, you began rocking your hips against his. Grind yourself against him until you felt a hardness so long it almost frightened you grow under the fabric of his trousers.

He was so warm; his body was like a furnace. Radiating heat that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket as his hands stationed themselves on the swell of your hips and guided your movements.

"Sweetling" His voice was a growl, so different from the way Cersei's sweet voice taunted you. This was a rumble, deep and heavy, "Fuck, keep doing that, and we won't even make it to the bed."

You whined but stopped obediently, allowing his hands to peel you off his lap and standing you on your own two feet.

"Good Girl." He smirked, eyes scanning you like a search light. "You have two choices, either you strip for me yourself, or I tear those clothes off of you. Your choice."

Gods did you want the second one, but you only had three dresses to your name so instead you began to strip at an achingly slow pace, tightening the spring both in both your bodies and knowing it would make it feel that much better when it snapped.

"That's it, nice and slow" Sandor's hand slowly cupped his hardening cock through his pants as he took in the sight of your body, the other hand working to take off his belt and loosen his strings. "Now, come here."

You obeyed, instinctively getting on your knees as you settled between his thighs. You purred hungrily, rubbing your face along the inside of his thigh and nestling your mouth over the imprint of his cock but waiting patiently for him to give permission to fully take him.

A growl formed in his throat like rolling thunder, his hand finding your hair and struggling not to press you down harder.

"Please," You whimpered, trying to seem as appealing as possible.

Sandor chuckled darkly at that. "Please what?"

"Please let me take your cock out." You persisted, "We've waited long enough for each other. Please don't tease me, Sandor."

The sound of your voice whining out his name, begging for him, made the Hound harder than he's ever been.

"Whatever you want."

That was all the permission you needed, quickly clawing past his small clothes and slipping the large, warm head of his cock down your throat.

You reveled at that sounds you managed to coax out of him, having caught him off guard and unprepared for how eager you'd become. His grip on your hair had become painful, so you gently urged it down to the back of your neck, allowing him to scruff you like one does a pup and guide your head up and down.

"Gods" He choked out as you took his deeper.

You knew he was too long for you to take fully, and so pumped the remainder of his length with your hand, allowing your other hand to wander between your legs.

The way your moans vibrated around him almost sent the hound over the edge, knuckled white from gripping the arm of the chair her found himself unexpectedly trapped in.

"Fuck, Fuck!" Sandor didn't usually finish quickly, but the look in your eyes as you swallowed his load told him that had been exactly what you wanted.

Breathing heavily, he tried to catch his breath as you climbed back onto his lap, cunt down drenched and dripping from touching yourself for him.

"Darling" You cooed into his ears, "I haven't worn you out too quickly, have I?"

"Fuck that." Sandor growled, grip tightening around you. "You're not getting off that easily, you evil little minx."

"Good" You grinned, kissing a line up his neck along the scared half of his face, "Because I'm not stopping until we're both half dead and sure you've fucked an heir into me."

Sandor rumbled, snatching you off his lap and throwing you over his shoulder. You laughed at this, kicking your legs eagerly as he delivered you onto the bed and pinned you under his weight.

"Your precious twins told me what a sweet girl you are." He taunted you, pinning your wrists by your head. "How trusting and innocent"

He ducked his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the gentle pressure of his teeth making your back arch and press your breast firmer against his face. Your moans came in sharp, quick gasps as one hand released your wrist in favor of massaging the other breast with rough, calloused palms. Your freed hand flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as you cried out.

"Do they know?" He pressed, scrapping his teeth over your tit before switching to the other side, "What an eager little slut you are? How happy you were to hop into bed with me?"

You wanted to shake your head, but in truth you weren't sure if he was actually expecting an answer. Instead, you tried to move your mind away from them and onto your husband.

"I don't want to talk about them" You confessed, "Oh fuck, just like that, Darling."

Sandor hummed thoughtfully at this.

"You don't want to think of them?"

"No."

"No?" Sandor, shifted upwards and turned his attention from your breasts to your neck, sucking so hard it would surely bruise. He rubbed the length of his cock up and down your slit teasingly.

"Then how about I fuck you so hard, you forget their names? Would you like that, sweetling?"

Your moan came out as a growl as you clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on top of you.

"Answer me."

"Yes" you begged, "Gods, Sandor I can't take much more waiting."

And you didn't have to. Sandor's knees began to push your legs apart as he lifted up enough to strip off his shirt and trousers.

He was large, larger than you had previously taken and your hesitance must have shown on your face, because instead of crawling back on top of you like he planned, he instead rolled over so you were on top straddling him.

The tip went in easy enough, but his cock grew girthier as you slid down, and by halfway you found yourself panting.

"Easy" He hushed you, "Go slowly."

You nodded, carefully bouncing on what you could take so far. It was far more filling than any you'd taken before, and it was as if something inside of you shifted with each little bit you took.

"Fuck' You whimpered; eye twisted closed in focus "I'm not sure it'll fit."

Rough fingers found your clit, shocking your eyes open as it rolled and pressed against the sensitive bundle.

"Ah" You gasped, instinctively rolling your hips and rocking to the tempo. "Oh Gods,"

"That's it" Sandor breathed, watching as a bit more of his length sank deeper into your cunt, "just relax and take it like I know you can."

Your core began to tighten as his fingers pressed harder and his other hand began to guide you in sliding up and down the length of his cock, taking it a little deeper each time.

"Good girl, sweet girl" Sandor's breath was getting heavier, closing his eyes to focus and to push his release off as long as possible. "Just like that, fuck."

After thinking you had grown accustomed to his size, you bounced a little harder and cried out in shock. Sandor's cock filled you to the hilt, your hips pressed together as close as possible.

"Sh, sh." Sandor wrapped one arm around your waist and one round your shoulders, shifting into a sitting position while still buried deep inside of you. "Breathe, just breathe."

"Fuck" You gripped his broad shoulders, "it's. deep" you spoke between gasps.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No." You shook your head. "No, I just need a minute."

Sandor didn't protest, instead focusing on the shifting and pulsing walls wrapped around his cock, desperately attempting to accommodate him.

"Look at me." He breathed.

You obeyed, leaning back to face him fully.

It was a level of intimacy you had never experienced before, or even thought possible. Him being buried so deeply inside of you as you straddled his hips. Chest to chest, both breathing heavily.

You looked him in the eye, frowning for a moment before reaching up to brush away the shaggy hair that hung over the scarred half of his face.

"There you are" You whispered playfully, trying to break the tension enough to relax.

"Gods" Sandor breathed, "You look beautiful like this."

Entwining your fingers behind his neck, you rocked your hips slowly, not allowing his length to withdraw entirely before rocking back as before.

This time you kept him nestled deep inside of you as you panted and ground against him. The friction reached your clit, sending lightening through your hips and urging you forward.

Sandor groaned, feeling you clench around him as you chased your high. Your hands tangled in his hair and pressed his face to yours, catching his lips and exploring each other's mouths with curious tongues and eager lips.

"Fuck" you squealed into his ear, locking your arms around his neck. "I'm so close. So close, please. Gods, ah"

Your words came as nearly incoherent ramblings, hips bucking and grinding against him desperately until a flood of pleasure filled you.

It wasn't like with Cersei, or with Jaime. They had been fast, and brutal. Their pleasure came like a bolt of lightning hitting the back of the skull.

This pleasure came like a flash flood, filling you quickly and lingering as your muscles spasmed and tenses in an unknown rhythm. It ebbed away slowly but left you warm and glowing.

When Sandor realized you were cumming, he allowed himself to release deeply inside of you, flooding your womb with his seed and a heat that filled your stomach.

As the flood ebbed away, the two of you sat there, still connected and not wanting to separate.

"I want to stay like this." you begged him in a whisper he couldn't bear to deny. "Please."

Nodding, he pulled the blanket that had fallen half off the bed over the two of you as you leaned on his chest, your chin resting on his shoulder. Neither of you spoke, only lulling each other into sleep with gentle touches and heavy breathing.

[promptthebear]

Hi, I would love if you could just tell me anything you think about Edmund Pevensie 🧺 literally could be anything I just want to hear your thoughts ❤️

💗Edmund Pevensie Fluff Alphabet💗

A/N: Okay so I know I’ve been doing like all the alphabet templates lately but honestly they’re a lot of fun for me and people seem to enjoy them so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

CW: I don't think there is anything for this? It's fluff, so not much in terms of triggering content. The reader is female and referred to as Edmund's wife and queen.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

For Edmund, I think he’d admire someone who’s smart, has a strong moral compass but isn’t so rigid that they can’t see the grey areas, and a good sense of humour is a must.

Ultimately, I don’t think he’d set out intentionally looking for a partner to rule Narnia with him but he’d end up choosing someone with those qualities subconsciously. His sense of duty to Narnia is just too strong to avoid that.

It would start off in small ways, he’d tell you about some messy political issue he’s working out and want to know your hypothetical opinion on the matter. He’d also bring up lots of philosophical subjects casually, and maybe even ask if you’ve engaged with any Narnian legal texts.

You don’t have to have a highly educated background to impress Ed or keep his affections, but he would appreciate if you listened and tried to contribute. At the very least you can act as a sounding board for his ideas, even if you wouldn’t be comfortable ruling in your own right. Someone who’s going to brush his concerns aside and accuse him of bringing down the mood or interrupt the conversation to focus on more frivolous topics isn’t going to be a good fit. You need to do at least a little bit of thinking to keep up with Edmund, he’s going to want a stimulating conversation now and again.

However you also can’t be so stuffy that Ed can’t joke around with you. Our boy may not be the little shit he once was, but he needs a partner who can see the funny side to things especially when he’s dealing with anything heavy. Humour is his primary coping mechanism, and if you don’t understand that then it’s not going to work out.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Edmund’s not really a superficial kind of guy. I think he’s more concerned about what you’re like as a person that what you’re like physically. However, I can also see him being a sucker for someone who smiles a lot and has pretty eyes. We already know, he’s a jokester and if you look extra nice every time he makes your face light up, well that’s just an added bonus.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I can see him liking having his partner’s head on his chest while he’s got an arm around their waist or shoulder. He also likes being the big spoon, I have a personal head canon that he grew up lanky as fuck so it’s easier that way regardless.

Generally Edmund likes feeling as though he can protect and guard his partner, that’s what happens when you’ve been king since age 10. But, sometimes he’s tried and in those rare moments of vulnerability he’s going to want to put his head in your lap for awhile. When he gets like this I’d also advise rubbing his back or stroking his hair, he’ll melt in seconds.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

To me, Edmund’s always been a bit more of an introvert and what he likes to do for dates reflects that. He’s not the type to throw a massive party or feast just so he can be your escort to it. He’s much more likely to arrange a private picnic somewhere on the grounds, or take you out for a ride with Phillip on a trail with nice scenery or to a play put on by a local performing troupe.

It’s not that he won’t take you to tournaments and things like that. He loves having you on his arm and showing you off to the public, but it’s exhausting being King Edmund all the time. If you want to really get to know him, take him up on those quiet, simple dates. He’ll be much more relaxed and you’ll have a lot more fun too.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Oh goodness, I think this really depends on when and how Edmund meets you. If you’ve known him since childhood, you’re going to get the full range without a lot of filters. Ed would know that you know him too well to try and hide anything, and he’s always been the type to speak his mind even if he’s gotten more pragmatic about it.

If the two of you meet for the first time when you’re both grown and he’s been ruling for awhile, you’re going to get a lot of King Edmund at first. That includes all the performative bull crap that comes with the title.

He’s going to be all smiles and up for a friendly chat, but still somehow very aloof and every answer he gives is couched in pragmatism so you don’t really know what he’s thinking about certain topics. To the rest Narnia, he’s their grinning, boyish King. But if you’re close enough you can see, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, they’re flat and empty or even a little sad sometimes.

If this is the scenario, Ed probably won’t really let you in until the two of you are married or officially courting. It’s just too much of a risk, he’s got his people to think of and they need to know they’re in the hands of a strong leader. There’s no place for insecurity or vulnerability on the throne.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Honestly, the answer to this is yes and as soon as possible. When the two of you are married, Edmund would want to start trying for a baby right away. Or, if a biological child isn’t possible, then looking into some options to foster or adopt.

Unfortunately for Edmund, being a dad is kind of a deal breaker. If you don’t want kids yourself I can’t really see him wanting to commit to you long term. And there’s a couple reasons for this.

The first is, personally, that he really wants to be a father. He’s wanted this ever since their first visit to Narnia after his own family got him back from Jadis. In that moment he understood the blessing of the love he’s been given and as he got a bit older, he wanted to share that love with a family of his own.

The second reason is the Prophecy from the first book. There was never an addendum about what would happen if there were no longer human rulers in Narnia, but I can see Edmund doing a lot of research about it anyway. In the end, he’d probably decide it was better safe than sorry for him and Peter to have a few children each to act as heirs.

Somewhere in Edmund’s heart, he’s always been a bit paranoid about Jadis coming back. Not because he’s worried about himself or being tempted by her again, but more so because of what she promised to do to Narnia and the people he cares about if she ever got the chance. Making sure there’s always going to be Pevensies on the throne is just added security against that.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

So with Edmund, I feel like he’s the type to prefer a little, meaningful gift over a big, expensive sort of gesture and his own habits around gifts reflect that.

Yes, he’ll go out of his way for major occasions like birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. But the rest of the year, you can expect little surprises from Edmund. The next book in the series you were reading just because, maybe a sachet of your favourite tea the next time he goes to market. He’s also not very artistic, but I can see him writing you love notes and giving those to you as gifts. He’d put lots of effort into those, with fancy paper and flourishing letters and coloured inks.

When it comes to getting presents from you, Edmund would just absolutely die from happiness if you made him something. It doesn’t have to be big or fancy or even well made. He’d accept a woven bookmark you cobbled together from scraps of ribbon or thread and treat it like it’s his most precious treasure. Just the idea that you cared enough to try and also made something that’s specially for him that nobody else has, it would make his heart soar. Also you can bet he’s going to be showing off whatever it is you made to anyone within earshot for ages afterwards.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time lol.

With Edmund being King, the two of you don’t have a lot of privacy and PDA is generally frowned upon. Holding hands is the most acceptable way Edmund can show his love for you in front of everyone.

If the two of you are watching a tournament, he’ll reach for your hand and bring it over to rest on his leg with his own hand on top. If the two of you are rubbing elbows with courtiers at a ball or feast, he’s going to be holding your hand the entire time. If you’re sitting next to each other in the throne room and listening to appeals or the like, Edmund’s going to be holding your hand.

In part, it’s because he wants to show the two of you as a united front to the rest of the world. It’s also because he finds your touch soothing and it can ground him when things get out of control. If you find he’s getting a bit overwhelmed, maybe his shoulders start tensing or his jaw clenches, just give his hand a squeeze. You’ll see the anxiety leave him in seconds, and he’ll squeeze your hand back to let you know he understands what you’re trying to say. You’re here, you love him, and it’s going to be okay.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Burn the whole world to the gr-

I’m kidding I promise. But if you get hurt, oh boy, everyone watch out.

With you, Edmund is going to be the gentlest, most anxious man. He’s going to want to take a look at the wound himself even with the best doctors available. He’ll be reading up on treatments both magical and mundane, herbal remedies, all of it. Anything he thinks may help or ease your pain.

Be prepared for lots of fussing, tea and massages if you’re sore. There’s also probably going to be times where you glance up and see Ed watching you with this puppy dog kind of look, and you know he’s worrying about you AGAIN even if you’re on the mend. Try to be patient and reassuring, he just loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

When it comes to the person who hurt you, however? All bets are off. Edmund is THE definition of “looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you”. Whoever hurt you better PRAY that you or Ed’s siblings are there to pull him off or they’re in for the beat down of their life. He’s been Peter’s second in fights for years and while he doesn’t usually start them, he knows plenty well how to finish them.

Expect at some point for Edmund to leave your sickbed, saying he has “something that needs his attention” only to come back to you with a split lip and bruised knuckles. If you press him for an explanation, he’ll play coy and act like he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. Whoever hurt you, IF they survive or aren’t run out of the kingdom on a rail, won’t so much as look in your direction ever again. You’re Edmund’s queen, and so long as you walk in Narnia you’ll be protected as such.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Oh my god have you MET this man???

Edmund is mischievous to a fault, he never quite grew out of that smart aleck streak of his and now it’s your problem.

You can expect everything from foolishness like swapping the salt and sugar for your tea to more elaborate schemes that he’ll drag his siblings into. There was probably more than one incident involving some minor spells that backfired and caused more chaos than they were worth. Ie. Edmund finds someone to cast a glamour that makes him have a crow’s head or something so he can jump out and scare you. It works a treat, but then he discovers that he still SOUNDS like a crow hours after the physical glamour wore off and he’s got to give an official speech to the council like WHOOPS.

He is also the KING of snark, sarcasm and inside jokes. The two of you are going to have a whole litany of nonsense that will send you into giggle fits but just confuse everyone else. Edmund also loves to make you laugh at moments that are maybe less than appropriate.

Peter has stopped letting the two of you sit together at any kind of serious event because you cannot behave. It’s not your fault though, Edmund keeps pulling faces and saying “Egg tart” which makes you think about that one time on that picnic with the centaurs and…okay Peter doesn’t get it but if he’d been there he’d understand why you’re giggling.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

So obviously Edmund likes giving you kisses on the mouth. He could do that for hours and never get bored. However, I can also see him enjoying giving you “courtly” kisses on the back of your hand or your knuckles. If the two of you met when you were grown ups, this is probably the first kind of kiss he ever gave you and even if it was just a social expectation, it’s still a memory Edmund cherishes. Nose kisses are also a big thing with him, but only because they make you giggle, which he loves.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I mean first and foremost, Edmund is going to tell you he loves you about a million times a day. He’d probably be a lot like Wesley in the Princess Bride novel, where he’d be having the most mundane conversation with you like “Yes it’s supposed to rain a lot over the next fortnight so Peter wants to gather some workers and help sandbag the farmlands to avoid flooding and also I love you.” He says it pretty much any time it pops into his head.

He’d also try to show you in lots of other ways. Spending quality time is a big one since he’s busy and has so many people needing his attention. He relishes the quiet moments the two of you have together, evenings spent reading or playing chess, peaceful mornings snuggled up in bed. These don’t happen as often as he’d like, so if you suggest wanting to “stay in” on the rare occasion he does have some time off, he’ll eat the opportunity right up.

Acts of service would be another one, he wants to try and help with whatever you need. If you write poetry and need someone as a test audience? He’s your guy. If you knit and need someone to hold your yarn while you spool it? Ed’s there. Any hobbies you have, he’s going to want to want to be an active participant and barring that, he’ll be as helpful as he can.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Honestly this is so cheesy but probably your first kiss.

If the two of you met and had an organic relationship, that memory to Edmund reflects the moment you started to belong to each other. Before that, the two of you were just friends. Close friends, but Ed always secretly hoped for more. And then with that one little action, everything changed. The two of you went from friendship to all the possibilities a new romance brings in a matter of seconds.

He thinks about it all the time, the way his heart was in his throat, the warmth in his gut when your lips met his, the pretty flush on your cheeks afterwards. He’d replay every moment leading up to the kiss too, trying to sort out exactly when you may have decided to kiss him or let him kiss you. Sometimes he gets himself all flustered and silly just thinking about it, and then he has to go and find you just so he can recreate the experience all over again.

If the two of you were in a arranged marriage though and your first kiss happened at your wedding, Edmund still treasures that memory. You were little more than strangers, but he still felt his heart skip a beat when he lifted your veil and saw you looking back up at him with bright, sincere eyes. And when he felt you kiss him back, chaste and quick as the kiss was? It was in that moment Edmund started to fall for you. Neither of you had asked to be put in this situation, yet here you were giving him your trust and kindness anyway. How could he not love someone like that???

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

I’ve talked about this a little before, but honestly for Edmund it would and always will be Jadis coming back.

He knows in his heart that he’s safe, at least. He trusts Aslan enough to know that no matter what happens, Jadis isn’t ever getting hold of him ever again. But when it comes to his family, his romantic partner and any future children he may have? Well, that’s when things get a little dicey.

As he and his family got older, they’d see Aslan less and less. And while Edmund still has a lot of faith in him, he’s also only human. When you care about people, you worry about them, and worry can lead to doubt.

He’d try to ease his anxiety by gathering any and all knowledge available on Jadis and her history with Narnia. Obviously a lot of what’s available in print has either been suppressed or destroyed, so he’s relying mainly on oral resources or archival materials related to Jadis as a secondary topic ie. anything about the Deep Magic.

This wouldn’t be an easy way to get the information he’s looking for, a lot of it is contradictory or parts of it written in languages that are no longer used. Still, Edmund would do the best he could to try and glean SOMETHING from what’s available to him. As far as he’s concerned, when it comes to your safety and the safety of his family, he will go to the ends of Narnia itself to ensure it.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Ed’s in love he’s…well, distracted. If he’s sparring with Peter, his brother may score a couple of easy hits Ed would normally block. Lucy might have to say his name a few times before he notices she’s trying to ask him something. Susan would find lots of abandoned teacups around the library, their contents half drunk and gone cold.

Of course, they all immediately know what’s going on and will tease him relentlessly. Or rather Peter and Lucy will do it openly, while Susan insists she wouldn’t stoop to such lows but really she’s just more subtle about it.

I imagine the conversation going a little something like this. Lucy would say Edmund’s name several times in succession but he’s staring out the window or into the fireplace at the fire, clearly off in his own world. Peter would go “Never mind, Lu, I’ll take care of it” followed by “Oh HELLO Y/N”

Edmund would immediately snap to attention, turning to face the doorway with bright and eager eyes. Peter and Lucy of course dissolve into giggles, which makes Edmund huff and cross his arms. Susan would try and scold them for picking on Edmund, but she’s smiling too so it doesn’t really have the desired effect.

This all comes from a place of love, of course, but Ed also knows he is NEVER going to live it down.

When it comes to you and realizing Ed has a crush on you depends on how well you can read people in general. If you’re perceptive enough, you might pick up on it. If not, he’s going to be the same Edmund as always. I can’t see him really being the type to flirt or try to seduce you, at most you’ll see him more often.

Like he’s suddenly just around a lot more and while you can’t place your finger on why, that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy to see him either. Despite you knowing how busy he is, he magically has all the time in the world where you’re concerned.

Planning to go to the market later? He’ll tag along. Want to take a trail ride? He’s there. Need something off a high shelf? Oh look here comes Ed just in time. He’s 100% blowing off royal duties and the like to be with you, but don’t worry too much about it. If Peter catches you two, Edmund’s the one who’s going to be in trouble anyway.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Probably just the typical stuff. Darling, sweetheart, dear, dearest, love. The only one I can kind of see being different for him is beloved if the two of you have been married for awhile, and probably only if you’re either very upset and need comfort or if the two of you have been…doing what married couples do lol.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship

With Edmund, I feel like the most beneficial “quirk” he has is his ability to negotiate and work through arguments.

Is this more of a slowly acquired skill than a quirk? Yes, but you can’t deny it isn’t both incredibly helpful and also sometimes incredibly annoying.

If you’re the type who wants to argue to blow off steam, Ed is going to drive you up the wall. When you come at him, sassing off and ready to GO, he’s not going to match your energy. Instead, he’s going to be calm and reasonable which will probably just piss you off more but he’s going to keep being so rational which will in turn just amp you up but again he refuses to give you the reaction you want which just makes you angrier and...well, you get the idea.

You're probably going to want to take up some kind of athletic hobby if this is you, like sword fighting or something along those lines. Trust me, it'll be much easier to take out your frustrations on a training dummy then it would be to goad Ed into getting angry with you. Better yet, go rattle Peter's cage a bit. He's always down for a good ol' fashioned argument or snark off, plus there's the added entertainment value for Edmund.

If you aren't the confrontational sort though? Well, the two of you are going to be perfect together. Edmund is an excellent communicator, he won't ever raise his voice to you and is generally pretty good at keeping emotion out of the equation so he can consider every aspect of the problem. Whether this is an issue that involves the two of you directly, or a problem you're having with someone else, Edmund will help walk you through it.

Please go to him when you're all worked up, he loves nothing more than to help you and has mastered telling someone to go fuck themselves in a way that still sounds polite. With him on your side, you'll never lose an argument ever again...except maybe sometimes to him lol. But again, he states his point so well and so sensibly that you don't find yourself minding too much either.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

I almost wasn't going to do this one because CS Lewis never actually published any music that exists within the Narnia universe, unlike say GRR Martin or Tolkien. HOWEVER, I am also extremely stubborn, a former English major and a choir kid at heart. This means I have a weirdly expansive knowledge of English and Celtic folk songs, and I finally settled on this one.

Now, obviously this is a modern recording (from 1996) BUT this is an old af song, and it sounds like to me that it would be sung around Narnia as a folk ballad because why not?

I figure your connection to Edmund through this song is because the both of you have heard the other one humming it on some occasion. Then, one day, maybe before the two of you get together, Edmund drops a yellow apple into your lap.

You didn't ask him for it, and he didn't say anything about giving it to you. Suddenly, there it was sitting on the open pages of your book or atop your embroidery or something. And you look up at him, and he gives you that wry smile that makes him look like a boy again, and you just know. This is his overture, his way of telling you he loves you without actually saying outright lest you break his heart. And you take a bite of that yellow apple, and it's so sweet and crisp and perfect, and from then on, that's who Edmund was to you. Fresh apples, chaste kisses and ballads hummed softly on warm, sunny afternoons.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Give it time, and there won't be a lot Edmund hides from you. Lying and keeping secrets has gotten him in trouble before, and he's sworn he's never going back. He realizes now, that honesty is the best policy and needing help doesn't make him weak. Plus, if you've been together for long enough you'll be able to read him so well he won't have much luck hiding things from you anyway.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I think it depends on the situation, really.

If the two of you grew up together, well, years in that case. The two of you were always very affectionate, but it didn't turn romantic until the two of you were in your late teens. In that particular situation, falling in love was just the natural next step. It's familiar, cozy, and nobody is surprised when Edmund announces he intends to court you officially. That courting period is also really just a formality, your family always knew you were going to end up with Edmund from the first time he came to visit.

If the two of you have an arranged marriage however? Well, that's going to change things. Did you want to get married? Do you actually like Edmund at first or did you get a poor first impression? Do you have an old love you're still holding a torch for? These are all going to influence how your relationship with Ed goes past the wedding. Depending on any of these factors, you could be looking at anything from six months to a few years.

Proximity would really be key in deciding how that relationship plays out. Edmund probably knows the chances of romantic love happening instantly in a romantic relationship are slim to none. But he hopes to be friends at least, you're stuck with each other so why not make the best of it? He isn't looking for anything else, but he's also such a charming, sweet man that in the end you probably couldn't help yourself.

After being around him for so much time, you'd eventually ease into loving him properly. From then on, the charade you have for the court as a married couple stops being a charade and becomes a little glimpse for everyone into what the relationship actually is behind closed doors. All it takes is the right spark for this to eventually blossom into a full blown romance.

If the two of you meet when you're grown and form a relationship without the pressure of impending matrimony, then that's what's going to have the shortest amount of time between when you first meet and when you become a couple. Edmund would make his intentions clear within a couple of months of knowing you, and from there a typical courting period would follow.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Hugs. So many hugs. Anyone remember that scene in Zootopia where Judy walks over to Nick and bumps her head against his chest while she's crying? That's Edmund. You can work out the details later. At first, his main priority is going to be to hold you close and put himself between you and whatever's got you so worked up. He won't mind in the least if you want to cry on him either. If anything, that just makes him squeeze tighter with maybe a few "It's alright, love" or "I'm heres" murmured into your hair.

Once you've calmed down a bit, then he's ready to listen. Just pour your heart out to him, he won't miss a single detail and he'll be sure to help you work through any problem no matter how convoluted or insignificant it seems. He will also probably get someone to bring you some tea or make a cup himself while you're filling him in. What can I say? The English are like us Maritimers in that aspect, nothing can't be fixed with a good, warm cuppa.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Edmund's proud of a few things, even if he's a little more subtle about them. His family, for one. He loves his siblings so much and every accomplishment of theirs is worth celebrating no matter how small.

He's also very proud of his kingdom. Narnia is his home, his salvation and his joy. He wouldn't be who he is without it, and he wants you to try and understand that the best you can. Expect to go on lots of trips to little out of the way wonders you didn't even know about, and lots of scenic locations on dates. Admire each and every inch with Edmund, from local folk festivals to sunsets to fields of wildflowers. There's nothing about this country he doesn't love, and the only thing better than experiencing it on his own is with you.

Edmund would also love showing you off. Whether you dress up or are just going casual for the day, he wants everyone to see you. To admire your beauty the way he does. The only thing he loves more than Narnia is you, and damned if he's going to rest until the world realizes it. Expect him to take you to lots of council meetings, political events and the like.

They may not involve you in the slightest, in fact you may sit there the whole time knitting or writing or sketching and not paying much attention, but that's okay. Edmund just wants you there for moral support and also again, so everyone can have a look at you. Each subtle touch to his arm, each whisper in his ear or kiss on his cheek. He relishes those little moments because it shows everyone he belongs to the most amazing woman in the world.

Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Edmund really, really doesn't want you fighting. He's seen the mess war makes, and wants you as far from that as possible. However, if you can hold your own in battle, then he'll at least concede once he witnesses it for himself. From then on, he's happy to fight alongside you, maybe even listing you as his second in tournaments, not that anyone can ever beat him lol.

If you're not the fighting type, however, then Edmund makes it his personal mission to be your knight in shining armour. Expect him to ask for your favour when he goes to fight or joust in tourneys or before going to battle. He may not want you anywhere near the bloodshed, but having those little reminders of what he's fighting for means he's all the more likely to come back to you in one piece.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

So very well. Good luck keeping secrets, because this man will be able to read you with a glance. This comes from Edmund's own pragmatic nature, as well as the fact that he needs to be able to read a room moments after entering. If you're even the least bit on edge, Ed will be pulling you aside for a quiet moment and won't rest until he gets to the bottom of things.

He'd also know you're pregnant the second you're sure of it yourself. All it would take is the slightest shift in your expression or the way you carry yourself, and boom, that's it. He'd be asking you about your health and baby names and won't leave well alone until you tell him. Like I said, good luck keeping secrets. He's clever and stubborn, not a winning combination for someone you're trying to hide things from.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

So with Edmund, I feel like there are two different proposals.

The first is going to be your private proposal. It may involve a ring, it may not. Case in point, Edmund is going to try and have quiet moment with you to ask before all the chaos that comes with a royal wedding beings.

He may take you to the spot where you had your first date, or arrange a special dinner or even just do it in the comfort of your own chambers. He'll probably either light some candles or get jars of fireflies or make use of some naturally bio-luminescent plants that grow around for mood lighting.

He'd probably also wrap a blindfold around your eyes or have you cover them before guiding you in. He's surprised you with things before, but you'd really have no idea what he's planning until you open your eyes or take the blindfold off and see him kneeling in front of you.

He wouldn't even be able to get the whole question out before you're down there with him, exclaiming "Yes, yes! Of course I will!" I between the many, many kisses you're giving him. If he gets a ring, it'll probably be a very simple silver band he had one of his dwarven friends make for you. You'll get a fancier, bejewelled ring later on when things are officially announced, but again Edmund still wants you to have something that's just for the two of you to share before the whole kingdom gets involved.

The formal proposal would come later, which would be a big ceremony with all the fanfare and everyone invited, royal, noble or otherwise. You'd be standing next to Edmund in front of the four thrones when he makes the announcement. A raucous cacophony of cheers would follow, the sound so loud you can feel it reverberating in the hollows of your collarbones.

This would be the one and only time anxiety would set in, because you'd realize that this means you aren't just going to be Edmund's wife, but a Queen of Narnia. However, before you can start to spiral Edmund would give your hand a squeeze, and your mind quiets. In spite of your doubts, he believes in you and your ability to rule alongside him. That and his love is more than enough to keep you going.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Spending time with you, his family, any children you may have together. Going for trail rides with you, or practising his swordplay.

It isn't often Edmund actually panics or gets stressed. He and Susan are the most clear headed of all their siblings. They're more likely to think or talk things through then they are to submit to blind emotion.

However, Edmund is only human, and sometimes the weight of the world literally gets to be too much. In those rare moments, he wants nothing more than to seek out the things that ground him and make him feel like a normal man.

If he suddenly gets very sooky and cuddly with you out of nowhere, or pulls you and the children away from what you're doing to go on a sudden day trip or you find him hacking away at a training dummy at odd hours? Check in with him. Odds are there's something bothering him, and he's trying to seek out support from you without worrying you directly.

[myemuisemo]

With April showers, Letters from Watson brings us the first installment of The Sign of the Four, a prospect that makes me quake. When I was a tot of eight years, reading the library's copy of The Boy's Sherlock Holmes with a creeping sense of guilt because I was not at that time (and have not been at any time before or since) a boy, I found The Sign of the Four... long. Very long. I was obviously too young for the concepts, even though I could make sense of the words. (That sums up a lot of my reading in that era.)

I'm also reeling from last week's "The Man with the Watches," an utter tragedy of "be gay, do crime."

What's striking me this time -- what with the introduction of Holmes' cocaine use and also the watch deduction that raises a wince and a shudder from anyone who remembers that BBC Sherlock happened -- is how Watson is being positioned (and I don't mean "positioned in the path of which bullet," though apparently he got hit by more than one while in India).

Cocaine

Watson is progressive! His objections to cocaine sound so mild to us in the twenty-first century, but in 1890, scientific opinion was just barely starting to turn away from seeing cocaine as a wonder drug. It was used for local anesthesia as well as for general pep. Queen Victoria drank Vin Mariani, a wine fortified with cocaine, and so did the Pope. Coca Cola contained cocaine until 1906. Sigmund Freud was a vocal proponent of cocaine for improving mood and performance, until he botched an operation in the early 1890s while high.

A couple hair-raising reads on this topic are Cocaine: The Victorian Wonder Drug and A Cure for (Anything) that Ails You: Cocaine in Victorian Medicine.

So Holmes' original audience would have seen him as an up-to-date scientist using a socially approved means of moderating his mood. His shooting up a 7% solution of cocaine is about equivalent to a 21st century person taking nutritional supplements that are meant to boost brain power.

After all the "say no to drugs" education in the American school system, that's so hard for me to get my brain around, but there we are. Holmes is doing something no more troubling than pouring a glass of whiskey and much more scientific.

Watson, therefore, can be read either as being right at the edge of shifting scientific opinion or as being a fussbudget.

Tinge it with romanticism

I'm firmly Team Watson when Holmes starts criticizing A Study in Scarlet:

He shook his head sadly. “I glanced over it,” said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it. Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love-story or an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid.”

The reader is being positioned here to view with contempt the exact features of the work that we probably enjoyed. Poor Watson!

Is it possible that some reviewers commented on the melodrama of the Lucy portions? Yes, and it'd be a valid point. Nonetheless, having experienced a good many math classes, I think the fifth proposition of Euclid might be improved by a rom--

wait.

Doyle, you magnificent bastard.

Flatland: A Romance in Many Dimensions was published in 1884. It wasn't a huge success, but it seems likely Doyle could have known it, and it did, in fact, mention a love story in a discussion of angles. Back when I read it in college (because if you "liked math," someone would inevitably give you a copy of Flatland), I missed the social satire but appreciated the geometry.

Watson is canonically an effective popular writer, and I refuse to denigrate him for that.

The Watch

First, Holmes substantially invents forensic science with his monographs on tobacco and on callouses.

Then we learn that Watson is a second son, which fits with his his training for a profession and choosing the army to help make his way.

Watson was not on great terms with his brother before his brother's death. Holmes doesn't explicitly deduce this, but it's there to be deduced. Holmes knew Watson's father was long dead, which could have come up in any number of casual ways. Holmes had no idea that Watson had a brother, so Watson:

Didn't mention the brother in any context, ever.

Didn't set up any framed daguerreotypes from his childhood nor any modern photos made with the collodion process. Having a posed family photo would have been so completely normal, as would being sent new photos by family members.

Never interrupted his routine to visit his brother while living with Holmes.

Did not attend his brother's funeral (unless it took place while Holmes was away) and did not wear a black armband for mourning in Holmes' presence. Neglecting mourning for a relative would have been a sign of serious estrangement.

Holmes is possessed of some level of tact in not expanding on this topic.

Watson is also nobody's fool: he knows there are ways to fool a mark with apparently miraculous knowledge.

The question in my mind is this: did Watson deliberately distract Holmes from asking what was the subject of the telegram?

[aclowntiny]

Hi! I'm here 'cause i love your work so much, you really got my attention UwU

I wonder if you could do how ateez or svt act with an s/o with the same heigth or taller than them. That is my insecurity around boys tbh. Thank you if you read this, ily 🥺 💖 (English isn't my first language, sorry for the grammar)

AHHH OMG YOU’RE SO SWEET!!! I love *you* 🫶🏻 we stan a tall queen, I know 2 lovely 6ft gals, one married a 6’6 guy & the other is in a very committed relationship to a 5’5 (woozi height 😌) short king 👑 we love to see it! I’m sure any short average or tall guy would be lucky to have you 🥰

Ateez With a Tall S/O

Hongjoong

Ok, you know this man is gonna want to dress you up. You just have a great frame for modeling no matter what your style, because of course Hongjoong respects that. Whether you prefer more masculine or feminine looks, both look great on a tall person! If you’re taller than him, he’ll probably be a bit shy about it especially if you’re a tall queen! Don’t tease him and call him short though he doesn’t like it >:( he lowkey wishes he were taller so he can do more protective-looking things, but his personality definitely still shines through without the necessity of height. If you’re his height or really close to it, get ready for the most intense eye contact of your life and the best pictures of you two looking into each other’s eyes!

Seonghwa

In awe of you honestly. You know that look he gets of complete wonder, stars sparkling in his eyes as he smiles? That’s all for you, baby! Especially if you show off, totally work an outfit, or perform some dance moves he’s just like whooooaaaaa even if it was a small thing. Seonghwa’s favorite is to hold you close at his side and having you so near smooch distance is a big bonus! Your height doesn’t make him feel insecure at all, if anything he is reassuring you all the time how unique and amazing you are, whether it’s that or all the other things he loves about you. Having a taller significant other makes cuddling that much better to Seonghwa so he can hold you facing him that much more easily!

Yunho

He probably feels like you guys have natural common ground because both of you are tall. May make jokes or conversation about it to bond with you unless you really hate that. If you hate your height, he’ll just nod and get really understanding because while he’s at peace with being tall, Yunho can understand that it gets you attention. Just because it doesn’t bother him doesn’t mean he can’t empathize! Honestly, having a taller significant other that’s his height or near it is great in Yunho’s mind because it makes it easier to dance with you, which is one of his favorite things to do as a couple. It’s less awkward than if he’s towering over you or moving you too forcefully because he’s so much larger…not to mention the eye contact is very romantic!!!

Yeosang

Is surprised if you’re taller than him, if you’re just close to his height it’s probably not enough to register in his mind. Like ok cool, yeah you’re near eye level, that’s nice. But if you stand above him he will loom at you like :o . He sort of likes the idea of being the taller one in the relationship, but such a small thing would never be a deal breaker! Plus it ends up coming in handy and he sees it differently when you guys basically end up as that meme of Kevin Hart and the lady lol. You protect Yeosang, not that he can’t do it himself but you stand up for your innocent boyfriend and the way his heart beats has him forgetting why he ever wanted to be the tall one in the first place. He’ll definitely want to protect you in turn, pulling you to the half of the sidewalk away from the road and doing as many little things as possible for you!

San

Listens to you vent so well, so if you ever tell him you hate being tall he’ll nod so intently, eyes getting sad as you talk before taking both of your hands in his when you finish. He’ll tell you he thinks you’re beautiful and amazing just how you are and not to listen to those people no matter how hard it is to tune them out. Instead of focusing on your height he’ll compliment every single other thing he loves, like your face when you see your favorite things or how he felt when he met you. Conversely, if you love being tall, he’ll hype you up to oblivion about it, cheering you on and telling you how you’re working it even if you’re wearing the plainest outfit hehe. San’s your little spoon and your big spoon, the one you pulls you into his chest even if you’re taller and he’ll love it if you do the same. Basically he’s used to being the taller/same height one, so he’ll want to try every cuddle and hugging position possible with you!

Mingi

Lowkey loves that you’re tall too because he’s a big baby and it’s less overpowering when he falls on top of you laughing or cuddling, lol! Honestly, Mingi is another one that just thinks you’re so cool for being tall, probably oohing and ahhing at small things you do like reaching things or if you’re strong, too. Having a tall significant other feels like having a playmate to him, but he also loves that you’re that much closer to yank in for a kiss or just the feeling of you pressed up against him, your head close to his- it’s cute but can also be kinda hot. He teases you for being tall as if he isn’t too, unless of course you don’t like hearing commenting about your height! Endearing as heck forehead bonks ensue while Mingi’s either thinking really hard or in zero thoughts head empty mode. He jokes about absorbing your thoughts when he does it!

Wooyoung

Immediately puts his foot in his mouth and goes “Whoa how tall are you?” lmao but he really doesn’t mean it badly he’s just very social and teasing. So if you’re a fair bit taller than him he may make jokes like ‘what’s it like up there’ type of stuff… unless you tell him please don’t, of course. It’s not at all a bad thing to Wooyoung though, in fact he finds someone who can tower over him very appealing honestly! Also will probably ask if you can pick him up just for funsies hehe~ Because he loves to cuddle so much, Wooyoung will want you to be big spoon a lot of the time, probably an alternating spoon schedule lol. He would absolutely adore it if you guys danced and you dipped him, like man would be S W O O N I N G so please do it!!! You’ll get to see him grin for the next hour plus. Have fun in general tall queen/king/monarch because now you have Wooyoung as a backpack for life, good luck getting him to let go of you.

Jongho

Another one who, if you asked him, would prefer to be the taller one, but again not a deal breaker because he’s not that shallow. He’ll be extra proud to be able to lift you up if you’re a lot taller than him, hoisting you onto his shoulders with the most triumphant look! Jongho also really enjoys resting his head on your shoulder, whether your height difference is big enough for him to do it while you’re standing or he just does it while you’re sitting. It’s a small affectionate gesture he enjoys, same with loose hugs from behind, which again he might prefer from you if you’re tall enough! If not, that’s his job congrats. He isn’t much of a cheek kisser, but will do it sometimes because your cheek is so close, it’s just right there!!!

[thestobingirlie]

I mean the only song that Steve listens to in canon is ”Hammer to fall” which is a very political song by Queen who were very queer. Like I mean I bet that it means nothing to Duffers but if you interpret this song choice to benefit and enrich Steve’s characterization as much as some people interpret Eddie’s taste in music, you can get something very interesting. It’s very much against certain parts of Western society that Steve CANT not recognize. But no. It’s Tears for Fears and Abba.

I don’t get it at all! I think Robin and Steve would love to sing together to something like the Smiths “Heaven knows I’m miserable know”, it’s basically THEIR song. Like why. Like Depeche Mode was gaining popularity at the time, I bet Robin would be very into that. And by the way Eddie would hate DM, so you don’t even have to change much.

It’s this notion that Steve is not inherently weird and rebellious by himself when his whole character existence is him fighting toxic masculinity allegations and wearing little sailor suits that surprises me. Come on, Steve is best friends with a lesbian he is at least aware of contre-culture but probably just consumes it together with Robin regularly. There are several in-canon hints to his bisexuality even, however subtle and meaningless. And Steve’s inability to perform masculinity correctly is constantly made fun of by the show (he can’t win a fight).

At this point some authors just write not about Steve, but some ideal romantic interest that is very fuckable but also like elevates Eddie and makes him more cool and smart. Which by the way something that canon Eddie would likely not want in a relationship and definitely doesn’t think about Steve like that.

well, in canon, steve plays ‘sunglasses at night’ by corey heart, ‘hammer to fall’ by queen, ‘object of my desire’ by starpoint, and ‘hard feelings’ by kerby (which according to google is a song from 2015?). these songs are all diegetic, which means that as we listen to them, the characters can hear them too. steve also sings, and knows the words to ‘old time rock & roll’ by bob seger.

i do think that robin would introduce him to more music, maybe more alternative music than steve generally listens to. robin’s kinda hard because she doesn’t really listen to anything, although she is in the car when ‘object of my desire’ is playing, so you could argue that’s her taste too.

i don’t have an issue with hcs of steve liking tears for fears, it’s popular! (though i think steve’s mum probably listened to abba more than steve did.) but it’s just this really weird trend that people invent or completely change aspects of steve’s personality, purely so that eddie and the others can make fun of him, and change him.

i honestly think it happens because the people writing these fics either don’t listen to much 80s music, or they know nothing about it. so they write eddie listening to depeche mode, and other punk music that eddie would probably actually hate.

yeah, i hate that people strip steve of his characteristics so they can pretend he’s this, ‘normie jock’ when steve is often seen rebelling against what society expects of him.

i think eddie and steve are actually really interesting in that way, because eddie kind of performs the way people expect him to. he plays the freak, whereas steve turned against what people wanted him to do, he decided to forge his own path. but, like you said, all of that is tossed away to make eddie seem cooler.

[yuusaris]

@rochelle-echidna showed up in the thief king bakura tag cuz I follow it, doing a "post a couple paragraphs of your WIP" share-a-thon thing and said anyone who sees it could do it and I saw it and I wanna do it, I wanna I wanna I wannaaaaa!!!!!

tagging @millenniumringg, @justapalspal @nightingalejune and @ladymdc and anyone else who just wanna wanna wanna like meeeeeee

I'm obvs gunna do a few of these, obviously. I have too many WIP's not to share. I'm gunna do my lmk ones first, then the ygo's and I'll end on a very delayed WIP for rvb, mmkay? mmkay.

--[Unnamed]--

(Context: My last dump was to make way for this - a whole new plot and direction for a fic whose name doesn't suit it right now and is thus unrtitled - the idea is... well, honestly, this is almost all of the first chapter, so, it'll speak for itself.)

“Like a…bri-- a- a wife?” Macaque’s brow furrows. “You want to get married? You.”

“What’s that tone? I could get married if I want!” Wukong spits. “If I even want a queen - I mean, it’s not like we even need one.”

“Then why are you thinking about it?”

Wukong groans, “Well, everyone else’s got one!” and deflates at his status - the odd-king-out. “Bull’s totally gunna marry Jade Face, Peng and Tusk are saddled up, King of Confusion’s just got that new thing on his arm, even White Snake snagged herself some human to mack on-- Not that it matters!” Wukong defends - no, declares, because it is a fact. “Cuz I don’t need one just cuz everyone else is doing it, just - why’s everyone dipping on party time because of some spouse, what’s so important about them? Am I missing something here?”

“If you have to ask, you’re probably not ready for that kind of relationship--”

“Relationship, shmelationship, what’s that gotta do with anything?!” Wukong, just as he finishes, decides he doesn’t like the look on Macaque’s face either. “Y’know, for my right hand man, you’re not bein’ too helpful right now.”

--[Almost And Enough]---

(Context: My S4 Wukong In The Broken Scroll fic I've been working on sinceeeeee fffffuck, whenever it was S4 came out. I've been working on this all year and Chapter 1 IS done, but I want to finish the fic before I post. Either way, we've got a Wukong - currently not Wukong and therefore Monkey -deciding to share his Secret, that being, he's going to leave to find immortality. And he picks a very particular person to share it with first...) The Macaque looks to the sky, the trees, the fruits - as long as it’s not as his King. “The others should know.” Is his only, halting, response.

Monkey shrugs, shoulders hiking then rolling back in a way he hopes is cool. “I wanted to tell you first.”

“Why?” The Macaque asks with a dismissal that’s purely performative. “We’re not close just because we’re part of the same troop - We’re almost strangers, we’ve never even talked.”

Lies are sort of like secrets--

“You should tell the other mountain troops to merge with ours.” Monkey had suggested. “It makes no sense for us to hoard the cave when there’s others who need the shelter too!”

“I can do that,” replied the monkey, a macaque with three round ears to each side of his head. His face was a wild splatter of red with exciting flares, more extravagant than the smooth curves of Monkey’s peach-pink patch. “You’re King now, so...”

--but much less fun.

“Well, ‘almost’ isn't a stranger, is it?” Monkey grins when he finds a stick in the ground - almost a branch but just shy of earning the title. Absently, he answers as he slings it over one shoulder, “Besiiiides, us not talking is as much on me as it is you so, this is me breaking the ice and you being forgiven for not trying.”

--[My Poltergeist Is Dead And Everything Is Worse Now]--

(Context: a trauma-release fic I've been writing while mourning my cat. Weirdly took on life with sections named after bits of Bojack's eulogy for his mother. It's a funeral, taking place within the Milleniaum...Cube? Cube. Plana Cube, after Ryou got ousted from the movie by the Cube. If Joey went to a place no one remembers him, Ryou went to a surrealist funeral, where he'll be around all the people he lost, with a big focus on the Spirit of the Ring. His family is written in past tense because they have passed away and this cannot be undone or forgotten)

He sits at the pew, next to his mother, with his sister crawling into his lap. The Spirit sits behind him, and toys with Ryou’s hair, drawn back as respectably as a boy with long hair can manage. Ryou shakes his head to shake the hand off, but only succeeds in garnering Amane’s infant hands instead. 

“It doesn’t make sense, him being gone.”

Ryou listens to her speak, his eyes on the casket.

“It doesn’t feel real.”

Ryou looks to his side. His mother’s head was bowed, not looking at the coffin. Her stiff body and closed eyes unnerve him from her seat. In a rhythm, she took one long breath, exhaling, and each after became smaller and smaller. In a moment, she didn’t seem to breathe at all - Ryou checks for her chest to rise wide again, and ends up staring instead.

“Did you love him?” Ryou asks her, a thing that’s haunted him just beneath his foundations.

A glassy eye was open, pointed in Ryou’s direction. The answer took longer than Ryou was comfortable with, and the answer itself had been no sweeter.

“Do you?”

--[Love, The Me That's Killing You]--

(Context: Ryou has discovered Bakura's got Hanahaki disease and it's killing them both as they share a body. So he's trying to figure out who is it Bakura could possibly be in love with. Despite efforts to dissuade him, Bakura eventually concedes to the search, rushing Ryou past pictures of the Battle City finals until--)

“That one!” Bakura points. To a young girl with cinnamon brown hair.

“Jounouchi-kun’s sister?” Ryou asks, dreadingly, as Bakura nods, furiously. “...She’s… thirteen.”

There’s a choking sound. “Not… not that one, then.” Bakura rasps. “The other one, there was another one, still had the hair and the - there! Yes, her!” He points, it’s Isis. Ryou’s confused.

“But you just said-”

“I made a mistake, am I allowed to make mistakes?”

“About someone you love,” Ryou gestures to the petal pile, “this much?”

“It was - dark,” Bakura stutters. He stuttered. “And windy, and there was - we were in a lot of pain, Landlord…” Bakura’s brushing it all off.

“You’re dying over someone you just mistook for someone else?”

“Well, it’s not like I spent a lot of time with her, is it?!” Bakura barks. 

“Then what could you possibly love about her?!”

“That… is…!” Bakura stops, sputtering, “That is exactly it! She doesn’t speak to me unnecessarily, just how I like it! She knows her place, unlike a certain someone!” 

“Seen and not heard, is she?” Ryou gags, of his own reflexes, in disgust at the slime-coated sentiment. With a choke, Bakura balks, mumbling about Ryou understanding when he’s older.

--[3 Reasons Why (I Never Told You I Was Playmaker)]--

(Context: I love VRAINS. I love Chatshipping. I will write the Chatshipping somehow.)

“You don’t gotta tell me all that,” Shima says - as if it’s so simple to say even this! “Just say you don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You would have complained that I was keeping something from you,” Yusaku replies, without looking. “You would have felt hurt, gotten upset and run off.”

“I’m never upset with you!” Shima’s shocked, somehow. Yusaku only glances at him, brows stitched in dulled disbelief. “Well.. not for more than an hour, at least!”

‘Not for more than an hour’. Typical Shima.

“And," he continues, pointedly, "I wasn’t upset you ‘got secrets’,” Shima looks out, as if looking for where Yusaku’s eyes had just been. “You act like I’m too stupid to understand stuff.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Yusaku’s quick to deny. Something about what Shima said twists a knot in his chest. “I think you’re overexcitable and you don’t always think things through, and-”

“Sounds like a stupid guy to me,” Shima interrupts with a frown. 

Yusaku’s mouth is stuck open from that, having no course correction for that comment.

Shima, not Typical Shima, stands up. He’s not looking at Yusaku. His fists go into his pockets.

“Whatever,” He shrugs. “See you at school.”

With too straight a gait, Shima walks with a tremble. It quickly gives way into a bursting sprint once he can’t hold it back. And Yusaku is the coward who doesn’t stop him.

--[Wedding Soup (Chapter 2)]--

(Context: after a sleepless night and wrestless workday, Ryou's sunset afternoon ends with many... many tsuchinoko in the backyard. They are notorious liars, known for their penchant for drinking and a deadly bite.)

“And I didn’t even get a chance to answer, the cashier just went,” Ryou pauses, as another dizzy spell hits him. “ ‘Cash or Card’.” With an offended sniff, he takes another long drink of tea - black and intense and brewed with double the teaspoons to make sure it keeps him awake. Ryou sets the mug down with a huff. “As if I’m doing something burdensome by personally restoring a cultural landmark.” 

“This is a nice trap,” One of the tsuchinoko says from the writhing ball. 

“It was certainly the nicest there,” Ryou says. “Not too painful, is it?”

“Agonizing!”

“Oh good, you wouldn’t believe how awful the others looked.” At the corner of his eye, Ryou spies another one slithering towards a covered trap. If the others are aware, they’re just as keen to warn it as Ryou is. “I even looked some up before I went out -  for every humane trap I found in that place, there were ten more glue traps.”

“Sounds fun!”

“I know. I swear, the heartlessness of some people--”

A snap, a yelp, then the frantic rattling of metal as the tsuchinoko flings itself across the trap cage. Ryou dons his thick gloves again, getting up from his spot on the back porch. “Here, here,” he says softly. One hand holds the snake firmly by the back of its tiny head, the other taking the flat bottom of the small cage. He lifts it from the ground, quickly shifts it to the larger tank, and tilts it before opening the flap. 

“In you go.”

--[Gore Couture]--

“Just last week, residents of rural Blood Gulch reported screaming around 2 AM. Police responded within minutes of the third report, but were only able to narrow down the location an hour after arriving on the scene. When officers arrived, they found no body, but confirmed the presence of human blood and organ tissue.”

“Can this schmuck emphasize any more words?” Isaac leaned against the break room counter, watching up at the screen.

“This isn’t a gossip channel,” Mason Wu’s stressed tone signaled agreement. “Someone’s missing at least a liter of blood.”

The television at the station at least showed part of his work on the news, a brief interior look into the storage cubicle. Without the corpse in the arranged outline, there were only blood splatters, disarrayed furniture and a signature - Gore Couture by Felíx.

Maybe the accent on the ‘i’ was a bit much.

“A liter?” Isaac gaped. “Ho-o-oly shit.”

“You’re a damn sociopath,” Wu whipped back to glare. “You do know you’re on thin ice for being a no-show that night--”

“I told you already,” Isaac shrugged. His coffee sloshed dangerously close to the rim of his mug. “I was with somebody.” It wasn’t a lie - Isaac was with abody.

[scorchedthesnake]

August 13, 2012

This is my most complicated memory from the McKittrick Hotel. I will leave out the key players’ names because it feels far too personal to include them – though I admit the implications here, in conjunction with the previous entries, make extremely clear who was involved. I don’t think my relationship to the place makes full sense without this memory, so I feel I have to do it some justice.

It seemed like we were at the McKittrick Hotel every other day in mid-2012. In late June they threw a Pride Party – Joey Arias headlined, there were drag queens up on the roof. I remember showing up at the Gallow Green elevator for entry where there were two competing lines – McKittrick people, and CockyBoys people. I got squeezed into the elevator with a lot of the CockyBoys, as well as this guy John who had been my first hookup in college. I don’t know what his relationship to the porn people was.

In the course of the evening, I was given news that felt like an devastating punch in the gut. An absolutely wonderful thing was beginning but it had to hurt me. The news came to me as gently as possible, and he knew he had to tell me sooner rather than later, but the constant stream of joy I had long felt in the hotel was now mingled with a complex sadness. 

Late in the summer, I began to plan my attendance around the hope of avoiding them - even though they were my favorites in all their roles. The show had never been stronger but it felt like it was taunting me. I watched people’s social plans and bought last minute tickets when it seemed like I might be safe (from the consequences of my own overblown envy and hurt).

So it was that I showed up that day. They had been at the beach all morning, I’d seen all the posts on Instagram. Surely that meant a day off? And yet when I entered, there they were, the Boy Witch glaring at me, tormenting me in every measure as much as the Porter. And my heart broke for both of them, honestly, playing out this tale of unfulfilled, demonic longing when the reality was so much the opposite of that. I watched as he toyed with him, and flung him against the wall. The Porter reached up to embrace him and was repaid with a cruel rejection, cast down to the floor. I had to reach down to help him, and in that moment I felt that I truly knew the Porter’s agony.

He took me back to his room. The only thing I did differently this time was that when I sat down, I rested a hand on the desk. But when he sat down across from me, we were both already crying. He took my hand gently and held it as he began the ritual, never letting go. He guided both my hands as I pulled the wig onto his head, and we both ran our hands through it, looking into the mirror with a deep feeling of pride at the beautiful sight of ourselves, our true selves, revealed at last. And we continued to cry even as we beamed together. Until recognition took us both – this could not be. No, this wasn’t right, it wasn’t where either of us belonged. Then he tore the room apart - every box, every prop overturned, he raged and quaked, and still we both cried. And at last he took hold of me and threw me against the door – loudly and forcefully, until he collapsed onto me and whispered into my neck, 

“Thank you.”

He made a vain attempt at restoring some order to the room but there wasn’t time. He composed himself as best he could then I followed him back out toward the lobby. He turned every few steps to look back me, the tears still falling. At last, he left me, he had to, another scene needed him and all of this was in fact obligation.

I retreated to what I considered a relatively private place – the back area of Malcolm’s office, which outside of his scene there is mostly undisturbed – and there I wept, violently.

I have no memory of anything else from that performance. Afterwards I stood at the bar, ordering yet another of the drink with his name on it. He appeared sooner than cast normally do after a show, and hurried toward me. “What was that,” he asked? “What did we do?” I had no answers for him. We hugged and tried to laugh a bit. 

For some time, we called it the most intense 1:1 either of us had ever experienced. This led to some interesting rumors as others interpreted what neither of us had been able to name. But it was nothing like that – he would never. It was all very much by the script. At the time, it felt like we were grieving something together – the recognition of an impossibility? The passing of an age? The foreclosure of something that could never be? Over the years as I have thought back on it, I wonder if it was an apology. He had warned me, weeks earlier, not to get attached, because he could tell that I very obviously did feel attached. I am sure he did not enjoy that his bliss necessarily hurt for me, and that it meant our relationship had a different path it would have to take. It did feel like genuine care, and genuine loss, and not just for me.

We’ve talked about the 1:1 itself, but not about what it meant. Maybe we’ll revisit it here at the end, now that we’ve replayed this moment together for the last time, as different, older people, with much growth and change between then and now. This is my most complicated memory from entire run of the show, but also my most cherished. For as much as it all hurt, my heart lived.

[navree]

Team Green all the way 👑👑👑

Alicent, my beloved, is one of the best characters in F&B and it pisses me off how much hate she gets. She was an amazing Queen and the mother who wanted to give her children their birthright.

But what is most infuriating is that Visenya Targaryen, who did everything to help her psycho-rapist sadistic son to usurp the throne from an actual legitimate heir gets none of the hate Alicent gets. And Visenya is much more of an awful character that Alicent is. I mean, Alicent was a clever, lovely woman - Visenya had less than a likeable personality, Alicent was beloved by her people - Visenya was feared as a witch and was never really popular. But, of course, because she’s a Targaryen, we’re gonna pretend it never happened. The hypocrisy is outrageous

I quite like Visenya personally, though I'll admit that's in large part due to the extensive history I've conjured up in my head for the Conquerors (HBO, pls, you need me), and I think she has virtues both as a person and certainly as a character, we're just at a disadvantage in that we're viewing her purely as a historical figure, not a character in a novel. On a personal level, I enjoy both Alicent and Visenya, and it's fun to compare and contrast them, like how Visenya wasn't necessarily the most popular with the people, whereas Alicent took pains to be well liked by the populace and put their interests first during her queenship. Even if Visenya isn't my favorite of the Conquerors (it does honestly go Rhaenys-Aegon-Visenya for me) there's a lot I enjoy about her, and Alicent has been my favorite HOTD character since literally the first episode.

But there is a hypocrisy in the fandom where people who despise Alicent for following the precedent of the law in Westeros don't have any problem with Visenya and Maegor. Aegon and Rhaenyra are in a grey area, legally, and who had the True claim is very much up for debate (Aegon has precedent and just standard inheritance law on his side, Rhaenyra was formally declared the heir by the current king and nothing has actually been set in stone, just used as a norm). Maegor and Visenya straight up usurped the throne. Aenys had three sons, and at least one of those sons had children already and could have had more, Maegor was way far down the line of succession and did not have any legal recourse for the throne other than the fact that he wanted it. It's a straight up coup that they performed, entirely illegal based on the concept of law that Westeros has. And it's fine to have favorite characters who do bad things, Aemond's going to commit his atrocities in the Riverlands and I will be cheering him on wholeheartedly, but then you can't turn around and condemn other characters for doing the exact same thing. That's like if I cheered on the concept of dragon battles during Rook's Rest cuz my side won, and then complained that dragon battles were immoral during the Battle Above God's Eye cuz my side lost.

But I think Alicent and Visenya each have their own merits, and I like them both for different reasons, and also Alicent Hightower never did anything wrong ever in her life.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Safe Haven ~Bang Chan | Day 17.

Pairing: SpaceRebel!Chan x WitchQueen!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy AU | Sci-Fi AU | Royalty AU | Soulmate AU | Slow Burn | Mutual Pining | Angst | Smut | Fluff. Series Warnings: Third person POV · Very loose and liberal usage of Star Wars concepts (mostly to refer to weapons and tech). you don’t need to know anything about SW to read this, trust me · Physical descriptions of the main female character such as: can visibly blush, having long hair, and being short · Violence · Swearing · Mature themes and language · Original characters · Graphic smut (later chapters) · Mentions of the members of other groups (later chapters) · No one is straight, beware · Each chapter will include its own individual warnings. Chapters marked as M (Mature) either include highly detailed violence, or smut.

Chapter Warnings: suggestive · mentions of weapons. Word Count: ~6k | AO3

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for a 18+ audience only. Minors do not interact. ✰This chapter has been reworked as of 16/08/2023

Previous Chapter: Day 15. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 60.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“Wow, look at your head!”

Wang Eun ran from where he’d been standing on the training grounds towards Felix, whose blonde hair had turned orange seemingly overnight. The change had earned Felix a similar reaction from Chan in the morning when he came knocking on Chan’s door, to which Felix had simply given him a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I know, right? I was learning potion recipes with Her Majesty and Jenna last night”, Felix ruffled his hair gently, only for the locks to fall back into place right after, as if he’d never touched them in the first place. “It’s not the colour I wanted, but I think I like it anyway”.

“You did this with a potion?” Changbin seemed to be both confused and amazed. “You think I could drink one of those too?”

“Yeap! You can get any colour you want!” Felix started to stretch and warm up, standing right next to Chan who’d remained quiet most of the way here, and even now as they stood there all together.

Truth was, Chan was still brooding. He didn’t see, nor hear from the Queen yesterday at all. He’d not seen her since they kissed in the pool. Well, since he kissed her in the pool, and he was, quite honestly, having the worst time about it.

He did try to find her, which was the worst part. She was just nowhere to be seen, and Chan was positive she was avoiding him, especially considering she did meet Felix last night.

He did see Freyja, though. The panther had run to him with her tail high in the air and rubbed her forehead against him, which did warm him up a bit. Even if she was on her own, Chan still provided as many pets as he could, feeling a little comforted by her purring. It almost felt as if she had been trying to encourage him.

“Are you ready for today?” Wang Eun asked Chan, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I… Uh…” Chan wasn’t sure he’d be able to train today. His spirits were too crushed, and there was just no way he’d be able to concentrate enough to avoid Wang Eun’s blows.

Plus, he hadn’t even been able to wrap the ribbons around his bare limbs that morning. Not like he hadn’t tried, it was just that the second the things touched his bare skin, it felt too much like the Queen was there and he couldn’t bear it. So, he decided to be half honest when he finally answered Wang Eun. “You think we could just… not train today? I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I think I’ll just lift some weights…”

Wang Eun was about to say something, but Changbin cut him off immediately. “You can train me! Show me some cool moves”.

Wang Eun looked more than happy to give Changbin a hand, so he didn’t press Chan further. Chan knew Changbin was doing it for him more than for himself–considering he knew very well why Chan was losing sleep. He was honestly immensely thankful that Changbin took it in his hands to divert Wang Eun’s attention from him.

So he moved away from them both, and picked up some dumbbells from the rack in the corner to start a simple routine, something repetitive that he could do without having to think much.

“Have you spoken with Her Majesty recently?” Felix was close to where Chan stood, running on the treadmill. His sudden question almost made Chan drop his dumbbells, but he recovered quickly.

“I… Not really. Didn’t see her yesterday. Why?”

Felix hummed, clearly thinking something over before he continued. “She didn’t look too good yesterday, I wonder if something happened on her trip… Did you know she’s got a ball in her study similar to the one you’ve got in your room back at the base?”

She didn’t look too good… Was that a good sign or a bad sign for Chan? He didn’t know, and he clearly couldn’t ask, so he decided to focus on the other piece of information Felix had provided. “I’m not surprised. Anyone who communicates with you-know-who has one”.

When people joined the Alliance, they were usually given a crystal ball to receive news and missions from Dall, and to communicate with other units. The thing came with a base attached to a keypad, and the messages would display on the ball itself. It was honestly fiddly to operate, which was why in Chan’s unit, only Minho and Chan were the ones that knew how to use it.

“You think she…” Felix looked at his surroundings, no one else was in the area, but he still lowered his voice, just enough so only Chan could hear. “You think her trip was a mission from you-know-who?”

Chan’s eyes widened. He’d honestly not even considered it. “No clue, dude. Why don’t you ask her since you’re so close and curious about it?”

“I was actually hoping you would ask her”, Chan’s left eye twitched at Felix’s request. “Plus, you’re closer to her, she might tell you”.

Was he? Was he really closer to her? If he’d been at some point, clearly that wasn’t the case anymore. Plus, he had kind of already inquired about her trip, and she dismissed him instantly. “She won’t tell me, trust me”, and Chan was completely sure of it.

Felix had pressed a bit more about it, until Chan gave him one final no. He might’ve been too harsh when he said it, but at this point he didn’t really care. He would combust right there in the middle of the training grounds if he had to speak about his friendship with the Queen any further.

Fifteen minutes after Chan started lifting weights, Changbin essentially crawled back from the open area of the training grounds to where Chan and Felix were. The man was sweating buckets, and his face lacked its usual colour.

Changbin plopped down on one of the vacant benches, panting heavily. “Holy fucking shit”.

“I told you, dude”, Chan hardly reacted, repositioning his body to target a different muscle group as he lifted weights.

“Man, you guys are too weak”, Wang Eun stood by the bench, staring down at Changbin. He looked exactly the same he did fifteen minutes ago, barely even sweating. “Good thing you’re all hot and pretty”.

“Am I also hot and pretty?” Felix asked, still jogging on the treadmill.

“You’re the prettiest”, Wang Eun reassured him, picking up a couple of dumbbells for himself.

Felix chuckled, adjusting the tilt on the machine. “Wow, thank you, Wang Eun. You’re handsome yourself”.

Wang Eun stopped his movements immediately, and stared at Felix with wide eyes. Chan saw it as if it played in slow motion, how Wang Eun’s face was getting redder and redder by the second. He couldn’t help but scoff. There was no way this man was blushing over this…

“Uhh… Excuse me. I’ve got to… I’ve got to… Yeah”, Wang Eun dropped the dumbbells right where he had picked them up from, and left faster than Chan could tease him about it.

“See? You owe me some credits”, Felix looked at Changbin who was still fighting to get air into his lungs on the bench. “Told you he was all talk”.

Changbin huffed out a laugh. “That guy just kicked my ass, and he’s getting that flustered over you calling him handsome?”

“Must be my charm”, Felix flicked his non-existent long hair off of his shoulder. Which, even in his brooding state, made Chan chuckle.

“You are charming”, the sudden deep voice startled them.

The three of them turned towards the sound to find the High King stepping into their area. He sounded genuine, which was the most surprising part.

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Felix, too, sounded genuine in his reply. “What brings you here?”

“Just coming for some weights”, His Majesty shrugged, making a beeline to the rack in the corner of the room. He eyed Chan as he walked past him, and stopped in his tracks to turn to him fully. “Have you seen my dear sister, Chan?”

Chan tensed immediately, and the dumbbells in his hands suddenly felt ten times heavier than they were. “Not recently, Your Majesty”.

His Majesty hummed, scanning the features of his face. The Queen and the High King didn’t look anything alike, truly. But they moved so similarly that it almost felt as if it was her scrutinising every single one of his features, which did nothing to ease Chan’s nerves whatsoever.

“You hang out sometimes, right?” Chan’s left eye twitched at the comment, and he was suddenly unsure as to why the High King was asking him this. “So if you see her and she’s a bit… weird, weirder than usual, don’t hold it against her. I think the moons are making her go a bit nuts these days”, he emphasised, rotating his index finger around his temple.

Chan blinked slightly. “Uhh… I’ll–I’ll keep it in mind, Your Majesty”.

A cold shower did very little to ease Chan’s troubled thoughts. When he left his chambers after that shower, he, once again, caught himself trying to look for the Queen. Not actively, but his eyes would certainly wander when he crossed the many corridors of the castle.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d see a peek of her pretty face when he turned around the corner, or if he’d find a mess of paintings on the floor from one of her many outbursts… None of that happened, though. Instead, he just saw the many workers going about their day around the castle, carrying out all their day-to-day activities as usual.

Chan pondered on what the High King told him earlier. First of all, why would he say what he said to Chan? Second of all, was he trying to make fun of his sister, or was he trying to show real concern?

It was hard for Chan to tell, since His Majesty’s tone would often not match the words he said out loud. If he’d been trying to show concern, that’d mean two people had already seen the Queen recently and were worrying about her. Which, in a way, made Chan worry about her, too.

Chan was deep in his thoughts, his feet were taking him through the familiar way he took every day to go to his ship, almost like they were moving on their own. But, out of the blue, he felt hands on his body. The alarm bells went off in his brain a second too late for him to defend himself. He was tugged with force, and was suddenly pulled into a room before the door slammed shut loudly behind him.

“We need to talk”, the Queen stared up at him, with her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Chan just stared right back, blinking slightly as his eyes darted all around her face. He suddenly didn’t know what to say, he was too stunned to speak, even when it’d only been a day since he last saw her. Although, considering the last thing they did then, he shouldn’t have been surprised that his body wouldn’t react, really.

The Queen held his gaze for a moment too long. Chan didn’t really know who leaned in first, but they were certainly kissing now. Warmth and fire spread rapidly within him, he brought one of his hands to hold the back of her neck, while the other laid palm flat on the small of her back, so he could pull her as close to him as possible.

The Queen’s fingers threaded in his hair, the soft scratch of her nails against his scalp made him groan, enough for his mouth to open and for her tongue to sneak inside to find his own. It was desperate, and messy, and his head was spinning. His mind was suddenly blank, the only thing Chan could hear were her soft whimpers against his mouth, and that ever-present hum in his ears.

Chan vaguely realised he was moving, and his back was now against a wall as Her Majesty pressed herself to his body. He was probably letting out the most embarrassing noises, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. Her warmth was too distracting, and too alluring, for him to think about anything other than her body against him.

In one swift movement, he flipped their positions, so he could now press her against the wall, and slot one of his legs between hers. The most delicious yelp escaped her lips with the motion, only for the sound to get lost inside his mouth, since neither of them seemed to want to pull away from each other.

For a split second, Chan worried he might’ve been getting too carried away, but that worry died almost as soon as it came when he felt a hand–her hand–find its way to his bum and fucking squeeze the flesh over his trousers. 

So he retaliated. Of fucking course he retaliated… Chan liked things to be fair, and it was only fair that he, too, got to cop a feel. His grip was probably a bit too strong, his neediness certainly got the best of him, but she didn’t seem to mind, if the sudden moan filtering between their kiss was anything to go by. Blood rushed from his head to his crotch with the sound, and all of a sudden his underwear felt unbearably tight.

The Queen was a strong woman, physically. Much stronger than Chan was, for sure. However, when she pushed him away, it was almost weak, like she didn’t really want to do it at all. Chan moved regardless, separating his body from her just enough for her to slip past him and remove herself from his space entirely.

Pacing around the room, the Queen’s fingers tangled in her hair, and she tugged the strands gently. “Shit, you’re dangerous”, her words came out in a breathless chuckle, and her chest heaved as she tried to get air back into her lungs.

“Me?!” Chan was just baffled, he just couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that flew past his lips, nor the question that came right after. “What about you, witch?”

The Queen looked at him, and Chan looked right back at her. Who had moved first? Chan didn’t know, and, at this point, he also didn’t care. All he cared about was the feeling of her soft lips against his own, and her tongue pushing against his while they kissed again.

There was a desk in the room, apparently. Chan realised it the moment he’d pushed her against it, when the thing dug on her backside as his hands held her hips in place, kneading the flesh over her clothes. When did the Queen move her leg? He didn’t know, but the warmth around his hip and the weight of her heel pressing on the back of his thigh awoke something within him, something primal and so incredibly dangerous if acted upon. 

His hand flew to her thigh, and he hiked her leg a bit further up on his torso to keep it in place, ensuring that her balance was secure with the desk behind her to stabilise her. He was dizzy. From the kiss, from her warmth, from the arousal that was close to burning him alive…

One of her hands tangled in his hair, and she tugged–not enough to hurt or pull him away, but enough for his body to react. His hips rolled forward for his very prominent erection to grind against her centre, which made the Queen moan loudly against his mouth, further making his head spin.

Chan needed to breathe. His heart was beating just way too fast, his breathing laboured further with every graze of her tongue and every minute roll of her hips, and the only active brain cell he had left was screaming at him to get oxygen into his lungs as soon as possible.

So, he disconnected his lips from hers, only to reattach them to other areas of her skin. He kissed the apple of her cheek, her jaw, settling on the soft skin of her neck. In a way, he felt ravenous, hungry. It was the type of hunger he could only satisfy with the taste of her on his tongue.

Every time his lips connected to her skin, every time his tongue got bold and prodded her exposed neck, every time his grip on her thigh tightened or his hand moved further up on it, the Queen shivered under his touch, which only fueled him more.

“Chris, listen–” Her words died on her tongue at the sudden roll of his hips. The movement had been almost involuntary, an almost instinctual reaction to his name coming out of her mouth. 

“Listen, I… I need you to stop”.

Chan froze.

That four letter word shocked his senses back into reality, as if a bucket of cold water had been dunked over his head.

He pulled back from the Queen’s neck to look at her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were swollen, kiss-bitten, and her eyes were closed as she took deep breaths. Right then, she looked probably the prettiest Chan had seen her as of yet, and the sight certainly made his heart flutter.

Their movements had stopped, but their positions didn’t change. His hand was still on her thigh, his fingers lightly dug into her flesh, sporadically squeezing over the fabric of her trousers, while he hands were still very much buried in his hair. 

After a few seconds, the Queen took a deep breath and finally opened her eyes. “I can’t think clearly if you’re touching me”.

Even after saying that, she didn’t pull away. She made no attempt to remove herself from his space at all. Her hands just simply remained mindlessly playing with the hair on the back of his head.

Chan huffed out a laugh. “Me neither, clearly”.

Her Majesty chuckled softly. “At the risk of bursting into flames right here, I really need to talk”.

Chan pressed a soft kiss to her cheekbone, only to finally step away from her, letting her leg fall to the floor. The sudden lack of her warmth made his head spin, but he decided to ignore it. 

“I don’t know for certain what’s your… your stance on it, seems like it’s similar to mine. But you… you make me feel things. Too many. And it’s honestly a little scary”, there was sincerity in her voice, the feeling she described was something that, if anyone could understand, it would be him. “But we can’t do this”.

Chan blinked for a couple of seconds, and then took another step back, unsure of what to do. He suddenly felt… confused, and much, much less confident. It must’ve been obvious on his face, too, as her eyes scanned his features with clear concern in them.

The Queen inhaled deeply, dragging her hands over her face before she spoke again. “There are things you still don’t know about me. Things I wish I could tell you, but I can’t without putting a lot of people and you at risk. Besides, the Big Bad Wolf’s repairs are going smoothly. What’re you gonna do when it’s completely operational again? You know I can’t leave for long periods of time. Are you gonna stay here with me?”

Chan felt it then, the sharp twinge in his heart. She was right. Soon, he’d have to leave, he couldn’t stay. His mouth opened and closed a few times, while he just looked at her, trying to find suitable words to reply to her, but no words came out.

“Exactly”, her words were steady, almost impassive, but her eyes couldn’t pretend like her voice did. Chan could see clear as day all her unsaid words, and complicated feelings, swimming in them. “You’ll leave and return to your base to fulfil your own moral duties, while I stay here doing the same”.

His stance on it she asked? It was exactly the same as hers, and of course she could tell, because against his better judgement, Chan would often wear his heart on his sleeve, even when he shouldn’t have to.

The Queen was right, and it irked him in a way… Not only because she was absolutely right, but also because she was so fucking level and collected when she talked about this, while his heart was doing summersaults in his chest. 

“I must say”, Chan started, crossing his arms over his chest, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “I really admire how you can be so rational about this”, he finished off with a dry laugh.

The Queen looked at him for a moment, and then sighed. It was a tired, defeated sigh. “I have to”.

She moved just a tad closer to him, close enough so he could hear her whispered words. “It doesn’t matter how much I yearn to hold you, to kiss you, to be close to you”, the Queen brought a hand to her chest, spreading it wide open. “Even if it hurts me, I’ve got to be rational, otherwise I’d just give in to this burning feeling in my heart without hesitation, completely shamelessly and carelessly”.

Her words reached deep within Chan, they rattled that annoying box of feelings in his heart. Her Majesty’s eyes scanned his face for a while, until she let out another tired sigh.

“I just… I’m too dedicated to the Alliance. It’s what I spend most of my time on when I’m not actually ruling my planet. As long as I can’t be fully transparent with you, as long as the Charmer is loose around the galaxy… I just can’t do this. I don’t have time for this… and you deserve better than that”, her expression changed then, and he could see it clearly in her face, the struggle within herself.

A few moments of silence passed, a few moments where  neither of them were really sure what to do or say to the other. Until Chan moved, until that intense urge itching under his skin materialised into existence, an action that had started before he could even stop himself.

He reached for her hand, and held it in his. It wasn’t a tight hold, but it was certainly firm, and his thumb started to lightly brush her knuckles.

Chan saw her façade crumble with his touch, and her body gave in to their inexplicable pull to each other. The Queen moved closer, releasing his hand and wrapping her arms around his waist, tucking her head under his chin. Chan simply wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and brought one of his hands to rest on her hair.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered, her voice almost muffled against the fabric of his vest top. “I must be giving you so many mixed signals right now”.

Chan chuckled. “A bit, yeah”, he caressed her hair. It was pretty much a mindless action he wasn’t sure he was doing to ease her worries or his own. “I did, uh, kiss you first, so I guess it’s my fault”.

The Queen hummed, the vibration seemed to reverberate against his skin, reaching those secluded areas deep within his heart. “Darling, I’m just as guilty, trust me”.

Oh, wow. A term of endearment. It wasn’t mocking, nor teasing, nor playful. It was just… real, it fell from her lips so naturally… And it affected him, a bit embarrassingly, even. So Chan tightened his hold around her frame, and decided to break the heavy atmosphere with one of his insufferable comments.

“Maybe you’re right… It’s all your fault, witch”.

Her Majesty weakly slapped him on the back, but she chuckled regardless. “You’re so annoying sometimes, makes me want to–”

A breathless laugh fell from her lips as she cut her words short and shook her head.

“Makes you want to what?” Chan taunted.

“Makes me want to shut you up”.

“How?” Chan was delving into dangerous territory. He couldn’t help it, the urge was too strong. He really, really wanted to annoy her, to get under her skin and get her to do something, anything…

Again, sometimes, he was just a bit shameless.

Chan felt the sharp intake of breath against the skin of his neck, and one of her hands moved from where it had been resting around his waist to lay palm flat on the small of his back. “Don’t tempt me”.

“But it’s so much fun”, Chan pouted, he fucking pouted even if she couldn’t see him.

She hummed, and when she spoke, her lips ghosted over the skin of his neck, making the hair at his nape stand on end. “Is that what you want from me, then? Just to have fun?”

Her tone was level still, almost impassive, but there was an undertone of curiosity to it, like she genuinely wanted to know. The Queen pressed a soft kiss on his neck, and the feeling almost made him shiver. Chan supposed it was fair, considering he, too, had kissed her there earlier.

“No”, now was as good a time as any to be honest, so he was, all while sprinkling a little term of endearment of his own, because, why wouldn’t he, if he felt like it? “Your suspicions are correct, love. You, too, make me feel things. Too many”.

The Queen buried her face further in the crook of his neck, and an appreciative hum vibrated against his skin.

There was just something so comforting about having the Queen in his arms. Chan knew he had feelings for her, he’d known for a while… He’d known how the feel of her hands in his affected him, how full he felt when they spoke, when she shared those bits and pieces of her knowledge with him, how his heart reacted to her laugh, her voice, her presence in general…

It was odd, but now that he held her in his arms, it was almost as if there was something in the back of his mind telling him that this was what he was supposed to be doing, that urged him to just do it, to continue to do it, and, as he pondered on it, Chan’s resolve was clear. With his cheek against her hair, with his senses full of just… her, there was no doubt in his mind when he spoke his next words. 

“I’ll wait”.

The Queen took in a shaky breath, and her arms around his waist tightened their hold ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. It’s not fair”.

“I know”, he was set on it, there was just no other possible option in his mind at this point, he was in too deep already. When Chan had a goal, he would strive to achieve it, regardless of how hard it could be, and for her, he decided right then and there, without hesitation, that he would wait. “But rebellions don’t last forever. Eventually, we’ll win, and I’ll come back. We’ll figure it out then”.

The Queen’s hold tightened around Chan’s waist a bit more, and all of a sudden, a thought passed briefly in his mind, a drop of doubt that had nothing to do with his feelings, but hers. “As long as you’d take me, of course. Otherwise you can just tell me to fuck off and I’ll leave you alone forever. And that’s a serious offer”.

He heard the Queen chuckle again, her breath fanning his neck made goosebumps rise at his nape. Pulling back from the hug, she laid her hands on his chest, and Chan’s hands moved from their place around her shoulders to rest on her lower back with her motion.

While Her Majesty looked right into his eyes, she had a glint of something in her eyes, something that Chan was certainly mirroring in his own.

Hope.

Bringing a hand to the back of his head, her fingers played with the curls there, before she offered him a soft ‘Thank you’.

Chan just regarded her with a smile. She broke eye contact, and once again, her eyes darted all around his face, until they finally settled on his mouth. He could practically see the cogs turning in her head, so he stayed still in their embrace, waiting for the Queen to make her decision.

Ultimately, she leaned in and kissed him, giving into the pull. That burning flame inside of him spread like wildfire all throughout his body as soon as her lips made contact with his, as soon as he kissed her back.

The unspoken words in her actions were very clear to Chan. This was a promise. A promise of a future… of a future together.

Chan could feel heat on his face, on his neck, and his chest. It was everywhere, and when the Queen pulled away from the kiss, he noticed a soft blush had spread over her cheeks as well. Her eyes focused on his kiss-swollen lips for a moment before she finally looked him in the eyes with a shy smile on her lips. 

“I have to go now”, the cursed words left her mouth as the fingers of one of her hands mindlessly tapped Chan’s chest, while the other twirled a strand of his hair.

“I know”, Chan removed himself from her space then, taking a tentative step back.

The Queen regarded him with one last, almost apologetic smile, and her words of ‘See you later’ were the last thing she said to him before she turned around and walked away, finally leaving the room.

Even then, after the incessant pulling sensation diminished only slightly the more she moved away, his resolve didn’t waver. Chan was absolutely sure of what he’d told her, about what he’d promised…

Now, he had something to hope for. A newfound goal that was quickly ingraining itself in his mind.

We’ll win, and I’ll come back.

“I just need to know where to connect the thing to. That’s what I’m missing and it’s driving me crazy!” 

Chan, Changbin, and Felix decided to stay back inside the Big Bad Wolf after repairs ceased for the day, just so they could talk to their friends back at the base. Jeongin had picked up this time, the man was completely stressed out of his mind as he couldn’t continue repairs on the Shining Starlight without knowing where a specific circuit board was supposed to connect to.

“Okay, describe to me in detail, where exactly are you trying to plug it into?” Chan was rubbing circles on his temples, there were no doubts in his mind that Jeongin was trying to connect the thing to the wrong connector within the console. He remembered quite vividly how Jeongin had ignored him ages ago when he was trying to show the younger man how to do this.

“Okay, so there’s the main unit, right? So, I crawl under the main unit, and open the farthest left panel–”

Chan cut him off. “Your left or the console’s left?”

Silence fell on the line for a few seconds, and eventually Jeongin let out an exasperated groan. “Oh, shit”.

Changbin chuckled from where he was sitting on the floor playing cards with Felix, meanwhile Felix just shook his head disapprovingly at his friend on the other side of the line, placing a card on the pile in front of him, forcing Changbin to pick up four cards from the other pile.

“You should pay attention to me when I show you things”, Chan sighed. “What’re you gonna do when you’re old and I’m gone?” He added with the most dramatic tone he could muster.

“Man, I’m sorry, okay. Sometimes you just talk too much and I get distracted”, Jeongin lacked any semblance of remorse, which made Chan scoff immediately. 

Chan was about to reprimand Jeongin, when, all of a sudden, Minho’s screams could be heard through the line, very, very far away. The man was surely running into the communication room, screaming ‘Guys, guys, guys, guys’ repeatedly, like a chant. The tone slowly increased the closer he got.

There was rustling, a ‘What the fuck, dude’ from Jeongin, and then Minho was talking right into the communicator. “Shut it, this is important!” He was clearly addressing Jeongin, who very gracefully swore at him in the background. “Guys! Who’s there?”

“All three of us”, Felix said–their game of cards now forgotten once he and Changbin stood up and came to Chan’s side, right by the communication system.

“Jaebum’s unit’s been rescued. Dall’s just sent a message to all units”, Minho was slightly breathless, but he sounded relieved, which was the same feeling that washed over the three men inside the Big Bad Wolf.

“Holy shit, do we have details?” Changbin asked, clutching Chan’s shoulder–for moral support, Chan supposed.

“Seems like four of them had been captured, obviously Dall didn’t specify who exactly. In any case, apparently a couple of days ago a few units were able to assist and the rescue mission went smoothly”.

Chan let out a sigh of relief, slumping on his chair. “Man… That’s great”.

And it was. It was great that they could rescue them. Chan felt a lot of respect for Dall, whoever or whatever the person–or thing–was, they had proved time and time again to be someone they could count on when things got really bad.

Not like it mattered much, anyway, but he wondered if at any point, they would come clean and show themselves, or if, once the Alliance’s goal was fulfilled, the person–or people–would never reveal their identity at all.

“Do you think Dall was there with the unit as well?” Felix asked. He had always had special curiosity towards the identity of Dall. Sometimes, he even got borderline annoying with his speculations and conspiracy theories. Chan would humour him most of the time regardless, even if he had no real interest in the topic.

“It’s not like anyone could tell anyway, no?” It was Jeongin now talking on the other side of the line. “No one truly knows anyone from Dall’s unit, either, so it could be any random guy”.

“Or girl”, Changbin offered.

“Does it even matter?” Chan asked, to no one in particular. “For all we know, Dall could be several people, they could be a man, a woman, a person with no or unspecified gender, or even AI. We’ve been following them for so long already, I don’t think it matters that much”.

“Dude, where’s your sense of curiosity?” Felix was pouting and everything, which made Chan chuckle.

“You mean my sense of gossip? Outside of the Alliance, clearly”.

“Anyway”, Minho cut them off. “There’s another thing they mentioned, kinda unrelated to the rescue mission”.

Chan sat up straighter on his chair, listening intently as Minho continued. “Seems like they’ve found some sort of material that’s highly effective against the Charmer’s creatures, and they’re working on developing weapons to use them against the damned things”.

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his two friends next to him looked pretty much the same.

The Charmer’s mutated creatures were incredibly difficult to beat, regular blasters of any kind hardly scratched them, and any other physical weapon would break if you tried to impale the things. So a breakthrough like this was huge, getting weapons that could beat the creatures would mean they could get even closer to their goal, to finally win.

Chan was very curious. “Did they say what it was?”

“Nope. Just said they’ll keep us posted–Yes, Jeongin, you can talk now, damn”.

“Guys, any news on when the ship will be operational?” Jeongin asked.

“I was told today the tentative end date of the project is around two months from now”, Chan offered, sounding less excited than he thought he was going to be.

Earlier, as soon as Chan had arrived to the ship, Talboot had given him the news. After assessing the ship fully, they determined the ship should be fully operational within two months, possibly even before that if everything went smoothly. It was something that both excited him and gave him pause. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted after his conversation with the Queen today. 

Chan had to leave. They had to leave. All three of them. They needed to return to their routines and continue their active involvement in the Alliance. Even if his heart was screaming at him to stay, he just couldn’t. So, knowing that he only had a couple of months at best to enjoy more of the Queen’s company made him feel… oddly distressed, to put it simply.

“That’s great, isn’t it?!” Minho sounded genuinely happy about it.

Chan decided then to shove his feelings as deep as they would go. There was no point in brooding about it now, much less in letting his friends know about his conflicted feelings.

“Yeap. It’s great”.

Maybe, if Chan said it many times out loud, he’d start to believe it.

Previous Chapter: Day 15. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 60.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You

Eddie Munson x OC, Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader, Fluff, Shakespeare, Pining

Lucy Henderson Character Bio, Lucy's Tag in General

Summary: Eddie proves he paid more attention in English than he lets on. OR, how Lucy discovered Eddie reciting Shakespeare is really hot.

Warning: This contains the entirety of the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet

Based on anon request: I’m feeling ridiculously soft for Eddie and Lucy rn. Any drabbles or one shots about a soft moment during the craziness or before the craziness of season 4?

A/N: I literally came up with this yesterday. I couldn't help it, the theater nerd is strong with me.

Word Count: 1.8K

    “Bullshit.”

    “Scouts honor.”

    “You were never in the scouts.”

    “Well what else am I supposed to swear on?”

    Lucy rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. She had been doing it all night and was starting to get good at it. 

    It was late. Their movie had ended and Lucy had dared to take Eddie up on his suggestion to just walk for a while. It wasn’t an unusual request. They did it all the time, but spending so much time alone with him was proving treacherous.

    Her little crush hadn’t faded since the end of the semester and they were almost to July. It felt like it was getting worse. 

    She thought some distance would do her some good, but Eddie had called her out of the blue and she couldn’t think of a good excuse not to. They were still friends. She couldn’t avoid him forever. A movie seemed innocent enough; dark, limited talking, safe. She had even managed to pay attention to what was on screen for most of it. Even still, his occasional commentary in her ear drove her to distraction. She honestly couldn’t remember anything of what they had just seen by the time they walked out. 

    If she had any sense she would have made up some excuse about work in the morning, but then he smiled and she knew she’d do just about anything he asked. 

    He kept the conversation going for the first stretch and eventually Lucy was able to relax enough to answer back. Nothing had changed. Eddie was still Eddie. She just had to remind herself of that and not get herself into a tizzy over a laugh or a look. 

    They had even managed to move past the subject of the movie to, of all things, Shakespeare. Somewhere in their rambles Lucy grumbled about wishing she could rent an apartment for three months to do summer stock in a big city or even just Shakespeare in the park. This prompted Eddie to make a rather bold claim pertaining to Mercutio and Queen Mab.   

    “Why would you even try to memorize the Queen Mab speech?” Lucy protested. 

    He shrugged. “It’s cool. I mean the rest of the play is gooey, lovey dovey shlock, but all the Mercutio stuff is awesome. Besides, I needed the extra credit.”

    “So you just up and performed in front of the entire class for a couple extra points?”

    He scoffed. “Please, if I did that my reputation would never recover. Mr. Kennedy just let me do it at lunch.” 

    Lucy’s lips pressed into a line. Mr. Kennedy was known for being one of the more reasonable teachers at Hawkins. She could see him offering to let Eddie perform privately if he felt like Eddie was otherwise putting in the effort. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like he was pulling her leg.

    Eddie caught her skeptical expression. “You don’t believe me.” 

    “I just don’t see it,” she admitted. 

    He nodded, his brows creasing in deep thought. It only took him a moment to come to a decision. “Okay.” 

    He took two long strides ahead before jumping up on a bench in front of an empty store front. He cleared his throat, placing a hand over his heart. 

    “I, Edward Munson, shall perform Shakespeare’s Queen Mab for the judgment and viewing pleasure of this illustrious audience,” he announced in the most obnoxious British accent he could muster as he gestured to the non-existent crowd. 

    Lucy let out a laugh, which only encouraged him.

    “Now I shall require some audience participation,” he said, peering down at her with a scrupulous eye, “assuming the audience has the play memorized as well.”

    “We do,” she assured. 

    “Excellent,” he grinned, dropping the accent while he was at it. “Now, let me see, how does it start?" He tapped his chin. "Romeo says, 'I dreampt a dream tonight'. Mercutio, 'And so did I'."

    Lucy smiled. "Well, what was yours?"

    Eddie grinned and something else seemed to shift inside him, like the turning of a dial. She'd seen it a handful of times when a campaign took on a particularly dramatic turn. A sudden tremble of anticipation shot through her.

    "That dreamers often lie," he answered.

    "In bed asleep while they do dream things true," she replied.

    "O," he crouched down, meeting her straight in the eye, "then I see Queen Mab hath been with you."

    He leaned in, his eyes glimmering with an unbalanced glee. “She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes, in shape no bigger than an agate-stone,” he raised his finger waving it in front of her eyes, “on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies, athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.”

    Ever so slowly he began to rise, his hands and arms animating every line.

    “Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover of the wings of grasshoppers, the traces of the smallest spider's web, the collars of the moonshine's watery beams, her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, not so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.”

    He drawled out the final word mockingly as he once again turned his attention toward her, sinking down to her level. 

     “O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,” he continued, pointing to her knees. “O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,” he took her hand, pinching the ends of her fingers.  “O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,” he brushed her lips, or, at least, came close enough the air of his movements tickled her skin. 

    Lucy could feel her cheeks heat at the gesture. She thought he might stop to comment, but he didn’t break his stride as his expression kept up that half crazed smile.  

    “Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.” He straightened up, waving his hand in front of his nose as if offended by the smell.

    “Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,” he went on, now using his own body as demonstration. “And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; and sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, then dreams, he of another benefice: sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats.”

    He clutched his neck and Lucy felt something else change. Still in character, but the glee was gone, replaced with a menace that made her spine straighten. 

    “Of breaches,” he continued, “ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear,” he slammed his hand behind him making the glass of the storefront vibrate, “at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted swears a prayer or two and sleeps again.” 

    His eyes widened, his body like a live wire as if about the fall of the edge. 

    “This is that very Mab, that plats the manes of horses in the night, and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes,” he shouted. “This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage: This is she—” 

    "Peace, peace,” Lucy interjected, grabbing his hand. She didn’t know how she remembered the line, but was grateful she did. It would all feel a waste if she didn’t. “Mercutio, peace. Thou talk'st of nothing."

    "True,” he admitted, as if suddenly allowed to breathe again. He jumped down from the bench, never letting go of her hand as he looked down into her eyes. “I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air, and more inconstant than the wind, who woos, even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping South."

    A silence fell then, not that Lucy notice for the thundering of her heart in her ears. She felt like her whole body was shaking. He really needed to stop looking at her like that. 

    Suddenly he looked away and up to the ceiling. 

    "I think it's Benvolio after that," he said, speculatively. 

    "Yeah," Lucy said, breathlessly. "I think you're right."

    Eddie looked back down. Mercutio was gone and he was back to his usual teasing self. "Good?"

    "Good?" she repeated. "Eddie, that was…holy shit!”

    She covered her mouth with her hands in some vain attempt to hide her smile and surely obvious blush.  

    She could say a lot of things to say about his impromptu performance; amazing, transcendent, mind blowing, but the one she kept coming back to was hot.  It was very, very hot. She couldn’t for the life of her explain why, but it was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen him do. 

    This was worse than when he ran lines with her for As You Like It.  New rule going forward, never let Eddie Munson perform Shakespeare. It was bad for her health.

    It didn’t help that he was grinning at her now with the most adorably proud expression. 

    “Think I earned that extra credit then?” he teased.

    “I think you deserve a full ride to Julliard.”

    He laughed. She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn his cheeks were slightly pink. 

    “Seriously, that was incredible,” she continued. “Why haven’t you auditioned before? You would be amazing.” 

    He waved her off. “Oh c’mon Henderson, you know the rules. Seniors take priority. If I join now they’d have to commit to a one man show. Wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you.” 

    “You should still give it a shot,” she insisted. “I think you’d fit right in.” 

“Yeah?”

    Lucy felt her stomach flip. The look in those beautiful brown eyes was so soft it made her melt. This was why she had been avoiding him. All it took was one innocent look and she was a goner. How did people handle this? 

    “Yeah,” she said, glancing away. “I mean, unless you’re still worried about your reputation.” 

    He snorted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he pushed them both forward. 

    “How about this, after you’ve made your spectacular Broadway debut and if I’m not busy performing at The Garden, drop me a line. I’d be happy to do a reading.” 

    She nodded along.  “You’ll be my first call.” 

    They continued on like that for a little while, speaking of dreams as if they would someday be reality.  Lucy hoped they would and that maybe, someday, she’d be able to tell Eddie exactly how he fit into hers.

[spideymichelle]

do you happen to have any petermj fics youd recommend? 🫶

im looking to procrastinate this week and was curious if you’ve maybe read anything good recently!

i will always have petermj fics to recommend

completed fics

Behind glass doors by @abc2411

“They think we hate each other!”

“But we don’t.” She says. Her words are slow and drawn out like she’s struggling to follow. Peter knows he can get in his own head sometimes, but he feels like this isn’t one of those instances. “Exactly!”

“So why does it matter?” She asks. Her words cut straight to the point. There’s not anything they can do. Coming out and saying ‘well, no. Actually. Spider-Man does not hate MJ Watson, in fact, he thinks about her quite regularly and has been living with her for the past eighteen months’ wasn’t a possibility.

this fic has everything i love from established relationships/famous actress mj/ menace to society mj/ fake hating and secret relationships like what more do you want

midtown high’s alumni by @watsonmj

It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that Midtown High’s staff is filled with a bunch of alumni.

Nobody knows who Mr. Parker’s wife is and three teenagers are determined to figure it out.

this is just super adorable and again a great established relationship and a secret relationship and the author just has the funniest way of writing

we could call it even ** by @weezly14

"And that’s how it was throughout college. When they were both in New York, they would fall into bed, and soon they weren’t just hooking up, they would talk and hang out and it would be like it used to be, but then she would get on a plane and he went back to being the ex she slept with sometimes. When she was at school they barely spoke. They slept with other people. (They didn’t talk about it, but they both knew. Assumed.) They compartmentalized. Peter could only be hers in Queens; over time, as she visited less often, he became less hers. She decided that it was better that way."

i'm literally kind of obsessed with the fic because it is super messy and complicated and mj centric and that will make tune every time like i'm sorry it is just that good

Look After You by @seek--rest

This can’t be happening, Michelle thinks– hands extended out and balancing precariously on top of a bridge as she looks over at Peter.

“Dude!”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, turning back around as he hangs up the call with Ned, Michelle’s hair whipping back and forth. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” Michelle answers honestly, Peter glancing down and then over to where someone is calling his name.

There’s cameras, helicopters, people everywhere– Michelle looking around and seeing people staring, grabbing their phones, all pointed at them.

“We should go,” Michelle says, terrified and trying so hard not to be

mj's point of view of no way home ??? sign me the fuck up like anything mj centric >>>>

coming back to you by @watsonmj

“Critics are calling Unmasked your best performance to date. A lone hero trying her best to save Chicago and how the woman behind the mask copes with that type of responsibility. We were wondering if you took inspiration from one of our own heroes,” the interviewer continues. “Fans are taking guesses, doing polls. Since you’re from Queens, the most popular answer is Spider-Man.”

The lie tastes bittersweet on her tongue. “I don’t really follow heroes.”

MJ and Peter have been broken up for a while now because of Spider-Man. But years later, after becoming an actress and moving back to New York, she finds herself still drawn to Spider-Man, to Peter.

who doesn't love a good coming back together i just love it so much

a treacherous gain ** by @seek--rest, @promiseofthepremise

“We’re mad at you. I’m mad at you. It’s— it’s been two years, Peter. Two years,” Ned says, his voice even— intentionally so— as he purses his lips. “If we hadn’t figured it out, if— if we hadn’t shown up today, would you ever have come to find us?”

Michelle doesn’t want to look at him because she’s not sure if she can handle that right now, not sure of how she feels about any of this and of the presence of a boy that she’d been in love with two years and still feels— painfully— like she still is, the two years that he’d missed out on competing with the feelings, emotions, and memories of how she felt two years ago.

She doesn’t want to look at him because it’s been two years and yet she knows Peter Parker, knows him just as Ned does for asking a question neither of them really needed the answer to.

“No.” OR: How do you find your place in someone’s world again when their life has only gotten more complicated in your absence? (PS4 Felicia storyline, post-NWH style.)

this fic had me screaming like it was so good had me tuning in every sunday like i was obsessed

if only you knew **by @spicysagittarius

In which Peter Parker and Michelle Jones-Watson are tough competitors at MIT and absolutely despise each other. When he finds a lost book (a steamy romance novel!) he texts the owner to return it. Their texting turns to sexting, and he wishes he knew who the mystery girl was.

Spoiler alert: it's the person he hates the most.

something about enemies to anonymys sexting buddies to sexy truce to somewhat friends to definitely a crush to lovers it's good

in progress

from the sidelines by @seek--rest

“I’m late, I’m sorry. I know she’s–” he says in a rush, hair looking windswept and his clothes rumpled– looking at him like she’s been sent back in time.

It’s not possible, she thinks as Gwen gestures between them.

“Peter, meet Michelle. Michelle, this is Peter,” Gwen says, an exasperated smile on her face that quickly falls as the two of them stare at each other– an instant recognition that Michelle can’t believe as she lets out a sharp laugh.

“Peter Parker?”

i'm literally obsessed with this fic, roommates childhood friends that lost contact, gwen and model!mj like i'm hooked

Peter Isn't Dead by @abc2411

Peter Parker died in battle six months ago. There was no body, but they all knew. So, why has MJ seen him in the backgrounds of newspaper clippings halfway across the country?

MJ embarks on a road trip of a lifetime to hunt down her pressumed-dead husband and bring him back to where he belongs. She quickly realises that there are much bigger forces at play.

Inspired on Alice Isn't Dead

this is literally one of my favourite fics and i just love the thriller/horror aspect

Hope I'm Not Tired of Rebuilding by @abc2411

“You used to do that in school,” Peter says, drawing her attention over to him. In fairness, he’d had it for a while, a conscious determination to not look at him, a forced nonchalance at the fact they were now alone at the table. “Just-... insert yourself.”

“Did I?”

Peter hums and takes a sip of the drink on his right. He’s yet to buy his own and his scrounging off Ned. He smiles like it's their little secret. She schools her features. “I used to think you were trying to be cool.”

She stares at him, features even despite the fluttering in her stomach that she’s trying to tamp down. “I didn’t need to try at that.”

“No... you didn’t.”

--- After moving back to New York unannounced, MJ finds her feet and figures out what it means to forget and forgive when everyone else has moved on.

this is just too good i can't wait for the updates

until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky by ** @tvfanatic97-2

Peter presses a chaste kiss to her temple and whispers, likely for the last time as MJ will realize hours later when it’s daylight and Peter has long snuck out of her bedroom, “I love you, Michelle Jones.”

The whispered words settle deep within her, a balm that soothes all the pain and hurt of the night before burrowing to the center of her chest, making a permanent home for themselves. Even at such a young, ripe age, MJ knows she’s likely going to love Peter Parker forever, even when she’s old and greying and they’re each married to someone else, and that is the worst part of all this.

-

Or: MJ falls in love with Peter Parker first when she is sixteen years old, then again when she is twenty one, then again when she is twenty eight and again, and again, and again. She is bound and destined to always come back to him, to always choose him, to always love him.

i'm so obsessed with fic and it is just so well written and the characterization on mj has me screaming in my pillow

something blue **by @weezly14

“Em, I have the best idea.”

His eyes are twinkling. It’s probably a terrible idea.

“I doubt that.”

“What if we go with each other? To all these weddings?”

Fake dating. What could go wrong?

fake dating and wedding .... friends who don't wanna ruin their friendship when they stopped being friends a long time ago ?? like so good

the slowest moving train by** @weezly14, @seek--rest

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Peter asks.

“Do you actually want me to answer, because I can think of at least five things,” Ned asks.

“It’s just sex,” Peter replies, “just a physical thing. No strings. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, because you and MJ are completely normal people who have a totally chill history and haven’t spent two years avoiding each other. It’s not like you moped around for months after - ”

“We’re just - it’s not a relationship, Ned. It’s - it’s convenient. And easy. That’s all.”

“Famous last words.”

exes to friends with benefits is literally the best trope idk it's the history it's the ease of being someone who know you through and through so excited for any of the updates

don't forget to comment and leave kudos on the fics <3

** mature/ explicict content

[lemonhemlock]

maybe it's just my very normal enjoyment of seeing characters' beliefs being broken down but I read aegon's "she's an idiot we are nothing alike!" as a statement to be dissected in the future, if not dismantled wholesale, as a blatant cope.

I always find male characters vocally oppose to being likened to female characters particularly interesting. it's all about preserving the walls/front of masculinity - it's safety, it's access to power, but also a prison depending on which angle you take with a character (or take them all if you can juggle that many balls)

he's the eldest son, yet got skipped for a woman. he and helaena are bound by an arranged marriage that neither of the two chose. if someone told him he looks just like his mommy I think he'd break down crying. besides, he and alicent are gothic doubles and I see room for a similar narrative for him and helaena

I don't think the writers intentionally wrote aegon genderfuckery or anything, at least not in the way they did for rhaenyra, tho that wasn't much to begin with, and is seemingly tossed aside with elder rhaenyra so far. I have little trust in the current writers on the show to handle anything close to that with care and nuance. I shudder to imagine how they'll handle racallio ryndoon if we ever get to that point

either way, I doubt they'll take this angle but its a fun reading that mirrors rhaenyra's in a compelling way

I quite like the idea of genderbending and I've discussed it with my anons a lot in various AUs we imagined together. I think you can make the case for a lot of characters thinking they might be better off as the opposite sex - Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, even Aegon and Aemond.

I do also agree that Aegon is Alicent's dark mirror; they even manage to cast two people who share similar features and are of a similar height. Alicent is very much a character that is very much repressed, not only sexually, but identity-wise; she cannot truly express herself or pursue her own interests because she always has duties (as a mother/wife/queen) and the lives of her children hang in the balance, so she has to perform these duties extra well and go above and beyond.

On the other hand, Aegon, by virtue of being a man, can skirt these duties and refuse to partake in them (at least for a while, at least until the suffocating hollow of the crown encircles his temples) and he decides to tread the opposite path to Alicent - that of hedonism and debauchery. I find it interesting that what Aegon desires above all else is his mother's approval, whereas it is impossible for Alicent not to crave some of the freedoms that her son so easily accrues for himself.

That being said, I didn't read Aegon's appraisal of Helaena as being dismissive of femininity as a way to prop up his own manhood - he is shown to dislike her because she's drawn to insects and because she babbles to herself. IMO that's what he's trying to convey when he's calling her an idiot. As if to say, if she behaved in a more conventional way and didn't have weird interests, he'd be more willing to accept her as his wife.

And, honestly, they could do so much better than that for our leading green couple.

[meteor752]

Would Chrysalis still have taken power if the Rainboom didn’t happen?

I rewatched the season six finale with a friend the other day, just after having watched A Canterlot Wedding, and yeah the gears in me head started turning.

In part two, while walking towards the safe haven, Twilight and Zecora have a conversation about what led to their current circumstance. During it Twilight says, and I quote

“Chrysalis and her army tried to take over Canterlot, but my friends and I stopped her!” -Twilight Sparkle, The Cutie Re-Mark part 2

This is of course complete bullshit, even to the most casual of watchers. The people who stopped Chrysalis were actually her big brother and her babysitter. Guess that’s a little more embarrassing.

But would The Polycule not being there really have changed anything?

Because like, Twilights friends did nothing to contribute to that episode. They were just obstacles honestly. They had a cool fight scene, but like it lead to nothing as they were immediately captured.

One could argue that maybe Cadance and Shining Armor wouldn’t have gotten together if it wasn’t for Twilight, but I actually don’t know how they got together. I just always assumed it was through his position as a Royal guard, a role he would have even if his lil sis was a princess apprentice or not.

Another argument is that Twilight wasn’t capable of magic in the other universe, since she never had her magic boost. One would be wrong thinking that, as even before the boost she was seen using simple spells.

But even if Twilight hadn’t been able to use magic, I still don’t think it would have mattered.

She preforms two spells that matter in the entire episode. Lifting the rocks in This Day Aria, and zapping Cadance free from her slime restraints right after the reprise. Cadance could have easily performed these fucking spells. Like, why didn’t she? Queen your legs are stuck in goo and you can just zap in away why are you just standing there?

The third and most compelling arguments, is that Twilight wouldn’t have been suspicious about Cadance at all. She hadn’t known her during her childhood and they hadn’t had their little handshake thingy.

But I debunk that as well, as throughout the entirety of those two episodes we’re shown that Twilight is extremely possessive of her brother, to an unhealthy degree even. In a world where she hadn’t gone to Celestia’s school and then left for Ponyville, she would probably be even more clingy to him. Anyone would be suspicious to her. And if she’d been around through out the entirety of Cadance and Shining’s developing relationship, then she probably would have noticed the shift.

I also fully believe that even if Twilight had been absent, Cadance still would have found her way to the surface and stopped Chrysalis.

So yeah. Changeling world? I call bs

[always-andromeda]

just some thoughts I’ve had as of late; or, reflections on men and feeling like a fool.

It’s a conversation hon. I was just looking for someone to fuck with and you’re the only one it worked on. Good job, queen.

I read that message and the first feeling I felt…was stupidity. My stomach turned. One thought swirled around my head. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known better. How could I be so stupid? Giving the time of day to a man who told me to “affixate” on his dick.  I’ve been made to look like a fool by a man before. And I told myself that I would do my damndest to never let that happen again. I hated that feeling more than anything in the world. That feeling of inferiority. The shame. The helplessness. And I’ve spent the last three years building up walls around myself to avoid being made to feel that way.

I wasn’t great with men. For the first nineteen years of my life I centered my life around them. My father, my uncles, my grandfathers, my male friends, the men I had feelings for. They ruled my emotions and how I behaved in ways that I cringe to think about now. It was this unquestioned expectation. I must cater to them. And I knew how to do it well. I didn’t know how to be myself. I didn’t know how to create real, lasting bonds. I knew how to perform. I knew how to contort myself into some fractured, distorted version of myself that could mimic whatever they wanted right back at them. That was how I got by.

And there it was. I did it all over again. I played into what this guy wanted. I insulted him and gave him the attention he craved. I did it again. I am the fool. I should have known better. I should have kept my mouth shut.

That shame lingered for a few minutes after unmatching with that asshole. Then it morphed into disbelief. Being raised and socialized the way I was, I couldn’t believe that any person could do that to anyone for fun. It ran through my mind that so many men are brought up in such a way that they are allowed to deny women their own humanity. They can simply opt out of treating them decently. And they’re fine with that. Our culture is fine with that. It’s allowed. It’s accepted. 

Just like that, I circled around to feeling pity. Because men like that…thrive on that shame. They thrive upon using the shreds of their own ugliness to make women feel stupid for even trying. They whole charade relies on making women feel so dumb that they eventually shut up and take it. That they too allow it and accept it as normal. They’re so sad and so deprived that they crave those dramatic responses in order to feel something.

And that’s sad. That’s so unbelievably sad that they are so deficient of some kind of emotion, intelligence, or self awareness. Because as long as they don’t have that…they will always be trying to fill that void with negative attention. That void…it’s not my responsibility. That shame and foolishness is not my own to shoulder.

I’m still not great with men. But in different ways now. Because I refuse to accept that this is just the way men are. I refuse to believe that I feel too much. I refuse to just stop caring. Because honestly? I am happy with myself. I am happy with my personality and the way that I present myself and who I am as a person. And goddamnit, I refuse to let some small, sad little man make me feel stupid for caring and for feeling. I refuse to believe that men are just that clueless. Because they know what they are and what they do. And they deserve to be held responsible for it.

That responsibility isn’t mine. None of it.