#posting it as a picture since that feels less personal somehow

[lesbian-hannibal]

little bit of ekphrastic poetry based on the art piece 'Woman with Dead Child' by Käthe Kollwitz.

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[kaybreezy3000]

You never know what kind of trouble you might find if you put yourself out there and speak your mind, and tonight, that kind of trouble is Five Hargreeves.

~Set post season three. (the 6-ish years later thing) Five is older, but still struggling with life and you happen to find yourself at a party with him.

~Title note: The saying 'keeping it under your hat' simply means, think it but don’t say it.

(9827 words)

~Rated Mature for sexual themes, but it's still full of other fun too so you can skip that part and pop back in at the end if you aren't into it.~ Warning for the full rated E/dirty stuff is marked with a ⚠️ then you can come back in after the next ⚠️

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, spanking, daddy kink, super mild humiliation play, and Five pretty much being the quirky, sweet, and sexy guy I like to think he is under that hat.

Under Your Hat

The living room of the apartment was packed with people, and you didn’t know most of them. If not for Lila and Diego insisting that you had to attend their baby reveal party, you would have been at home with your nose in a book.

You had become good friends with the couple since you had first met them, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there. The problem was you had always been more of a wall-flower type and not one who thrived in loud crowds.

Feeling out of place and seeing your chance, you politely excused yourself from conversation you were pulled into about eyelash perms. You had nothing to add to that topic and looking around you as you escaped the group of Barbie look-alikes that enjoyed talking about all things them, you noticed that you weren’t the only one there who seemed to feel the way you did.

Diego’s brother appeared as unenthused as a person could be. He was standing there with one hand jammed in his front pant pocket as he stared at the drink in his hand with all the enthusiasm of a sloth taking a nap.

You had to smile at that.

Five Hargreeves clearly wasn’t having the time of his life, but when he unexpectedly looked up and busted you looking at him, you swore his lips tuned up just a little.

Damn.

You’d seen a few pictures of Five in the press but he was never happy in them. Now you could see that he could break hearts by deploying even the smallest smile, which apparently wasn’t something he did often because that small crack in his otherwise somber demeanor was the first you’d seen all night, and you’d know because since he arrived your eyes had felt magnetically drawn to him.

You couldn’t help it, and you could only blame that partly on all the things Diego and Lila had told you about him. Because of them, you knew all about the infamous Number Five and not just the things the public had been told. Five may have looked young again, but he was anything but a naïve college boy who was just starting out in life, and you found his story tragic but also fascinating.

You couldn’t help but admire him and how he looked in his perfectly tailored three-piece suit. All guys tended to look good when dressed to impress like he was, but somehow, he was making the look so innocently charming that it was making you feel inappropriately warm.

Shaking off the jittery feeling just his quick glance had given you, you moved over to the kitchen. The counter had two punch bowls sitting on it for guests to choose from. Selecting a scoop of the one you hadn’t tried yet; you filled your cup with the pink colored poison then continued maneuvering your way through the swarm of people.

Just as you were meandering over to a corner to hide in, Lila spotted you and called out, waving you over.

Here we go…

You had every intention of talking with them again before you left, but right then, almost their entire family were over there and…

Yeah.

You had heard about the Umbrella Academy and the Hargreeves since you were just a kid, and you loved Diego and Lila and their little boy, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre or intimidating being at such an intimate gathering with all of them. None of them looked like they did back in their glory days. Those famous kids wearing their fancy blue academy blazers and goofy shorts paired with their superhero masks were no more but to say you were still slightly awestruck was a gross understatement.

As you shyly approached, you heard Five snappily asking, “Do you have too many tabs open in your brain again, Lila?”

Lila snorted as she took you by the hand, pulling you into their fold.

“Sure, says the so-called genius who talks to himself and who's romantically involved with his hand,” she shot back, then took a second to introduce you to her verbal sparring partner since you’d already met the rest of the family when you got there.

Five’s eyes narrowed a tad as he took you in, then his expression warmed with his dimpled smile as he extended his hand and casually introduced himself.

When your skin touched his, you felt a strange spark-like sensation that left you with quick quivering aftershocks as if you’d just picked up too much static. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stifle the small squeak that came out of you from the sensation of it, and there was no mistaking the devious look in Five’s eyes over your reaction.

Then, as if he hadn’t just intentionally done something to you, with his soft looking lips still quirked up, Five looked back at Lila and coolly said, “To get back to addressing your needless concerns about what I do with my free time, of course, I am good with my hands and talking to myself. That is not news. I am a survivor and I take care of my business and always have. And further, sometimes I need an export opinion and I sure as hell won’t be getting it from any of you idiots, so just back off.”

“Urgh,” Lila protested. “There he goes again saying we are all idiots. Diego, my idiot, my love, Why did we invite him again? Oh yeah, because Five has no social life, which is exactly my point.”

Diego obviously heard her, but he continued messing around on his phone, rearranging the songs on his playlist rather than joining their argument.

Towering over everyone but looking meek as a kitten, Luther awkwardly cleared his throat. “She’s not wrong, Five. Perhaps it is time to spread your wings and fly.”

“And when did you do that again?” Five hissed. “Not until you were twenty-nine!”

Clearly you had stumbled into a conversation that wasn’t meant for your ears, but you had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about because Diego had told you that Five was very reclusive. You couldn’t really blame him for that, not with him being in an extremely complicated situation that would make starting any kind of new relationship very hard. Telling people the truth about his life would never be easy and from what you could see, most people didn’t seem interested in breaking the ice with the standoffish ex-temporal assassin anyway.

As you were mentally questioning if it was just because Five gave off the don’t fuck with me vibe, or if it was just the very little people did know of him that kept them away, Klaus reached over and squeezed Five on the arm as he said, “Don’t worry, man. I get it. We all do, it’s just-"

Five looked like he might bite his brother’s hand off if he didn’t remove it. “No, you don’t get it," he interrupted, "and I said drop it with your hippy guru therapy shit.”

Lila tisked and Five looked at her then rolled his eyes so far back that you thought they might get lost inside his head. She smacked Diego. “Hey! Back us up. Your brother is being a bore as usual and as much as much as I hate the pervy little muppet, I have had enough of his brooding.”

Totally distracted or maybe just still pretending to be, Diego slammed the rest of his drink, then went back to mouthing lyrics as he bobbed his head to the bass thumping rap music he’d just put on.

Taking a long drink of your own beverage, you mulled over what you were seeing and hearing.

Lila often spoke of Five with a distaste, but you could tell that under all her condemnation there was a fondness there built on things only they could understand. She cared about him, and the feeling had to be mutual otherwise she wouldn’t be bothering with him and Five wouldn’t have come in the door an hour ago with a huge stuffed animal for their son and an equally big gift covered in yellow and green wrapping paper for their unborn child that you were all there to honor.

Seeing as Diego was still ignoring her, and Five shut down his other two brothers, Lila tried again, which again proved that her meddling wasn’t just for the fun of fucking with him, though it seemed she was enjoying that too, especially since you’d come over.

“Five, all I am saying is, sometimes you’re the bird and sometimes you’re the statue. Stop being the statue that all the happy carefree free birds crap on,” she metaphorically explained. “You’d look better without all their shit mucking up that sour face of yours. Lighten up and maybe try hitting on someone not made of plastic.”

Your eyes popped as she looked over and grinned.

What?

Plastic? Did she mean like the Babies girls over there and their fake tits and lip fillers?

Shaking his head as he pulled a hand back through his hair, Five huffily sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Dolores and I have moved on. And as much as your hairbrained logic proves my point about your questionable brain function, I’m sorry, I have to go. You’re boring me to death and my survival instincts are kicking in.”

Just like that, to your dismay, the most interesting person there started to walk away, but then Diego jumped in, holding up a finger for him to wait. He sprinted off to a closet by their front hall. When he came back a few seconds later, he dumped a fedora on his younger looking brother’s head.

“There, buddy,” Diego happily exclaimed as Five apprehensively glanced up at the brim of the gray hat. “We have been meaning to give this to you. The old guy who used to live here left a bunch of weird shit behind. It fits your grumpy grandpa style and Lila said you used to wear one just like it.”

Five took off the hat, blankly looking at it.

Verbally jabbing him even more, Lila said, “This really does complete your stick up your arse look and I am sure it will be a big hit with the ladies.”

Not sure what got into you as you watched Five’s face becoming more and more troubled, you rapidly blurted, “It’s true. I think it makes you look very sexy.”

Looking about as surprised as you over that coming out of your mouth, Five slowly placed the hat back on his head, then he proceeded to slam the rest of his drink and go back to staring at the empty cup rather than acknowledge your compliment or his family who were now conspiratorially looking between the two of you as they sniggered like a bunch of shithead schoolgirls.

Seeing as Five was choosing to withdraw even after you’d acted totally out of character and hit on him in front of everyone, Diego gently elbowed him in the side and said, “Earth to Five. Maybe you’d have better luck picking up a date if you pulled your head out of your ass and tried to be nice for once.”

Jaw working as if he was thinking very hard about something, Five’s deeply expressive eyes suddenly flipped up, meeting yours for just a moment before he looked back at Diego, and scowled. “First, it was a stick up there, and now you say it’s my head. “What’s with you weridos and things in my ass?”

They had ganged up on him, but there he was, defiantly standing there with that silly hat perched on his chocolate-colored mane while he was being all grumbly but somehow doing it while sounding more adorable and looking more handsome than anyone you had ever seen.

To add to your night of doing embarrassing things, glancing down at Five’s rather nice butt, he busted you again and so did Lila. Her snort of a laugh over your indiscretion was the moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore and you started cracking up too, almost choking on your drink when Klaus declared, “Looks like we aren’t the only ones obsessing over your cute ass, Fivey. It’s a force to be reckoned with.”

For some reason the predatory look Five was offering you only made your fit of giggles worse. His ass was very cute and he was owning that ridiculous hat and then some, and damn did he look good when he was mad.

He slowly licked his lips. That openly hungry look in his pale green eyes aimed directly at you and it made you shiver even though the temperature in the room felt like it had suddenly become volcanically warm.

Did the air just get sucked out of the room?

Your skin prickled. 

You stopped laughing and your mouth snapped shut.

Of course, this is when Lila and Diego had suddenly become engaged with a few of their guests that had just come in, and Luther was also talking with someone else, and Klaus had gotten pulled away. You were quickly feeling very out of place again. Not sure what to say, you tried to move away, but Five snatched you by the wrist as you tried to pass.

“Do you think I’m going to let you laugh at me and get away with it?” His words came out with a razor sharp edge to them, and at first you didn’t know what to say and he clearly knew he had you totally flustered based on his haughty smirk.

“I wasn’t laughing at you because of what your family was saying. I think they were being a bit harsh but it’s only because they care,” you nervously explained.

“Oh, really? Why were you laughing then?”

You swore your cheeks must have been glowing they were so hot as you answered with your partial lie. “I laughed because I think the things you say are hilarious. I love a man with a dry sense of humor.”

Five’s fingers tickled the underside of your wrist. His smile grew bigger as he flashed his perfect white teeth. “I am gathering that you’ve heard all sorts of things about me and yet you still think I am sexy? You think I am funny when I am being a dick and you evidently like looking at my ass… Is that right or did I miss something?”

He raised a brow at you.

“Er...”

After giving that very articulate answer, you figured you might as well die right then and there and Five looked no less amused by that.

The fact that he was trapping you and he was a very dangerous man hadn’t escaped your attention. The way he was looking at you and the way he was blocking your path were making that even more evident, but then he brought your hand to his mouth and threw you for a loop when he gently kissed the top of it.

You didn’t know what to say but Five didn’t seem to mind as he confidently added, “Despite the things they say about me, being good friends with your hand simply makes me aware of how to use it, and believe me, I know how to use them both and not just on myself.”

Five pulled you closer, his lips moving to your ear as he set his cup down on the small end table next to you.

“Since you seem so interested, I love to show you what I can do.” His hand tightened around yours. “To start, I could be a gentleman and save you from this party you seem to be enjoying so much. I could gallantly escort you out of here and we could get to know each other a little better, somewhere a little quieter…”

Gulp.

Did he really just say that?

Five’s smile turned sweetly innocent again and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “By that, of course I mean, I could buy you a coffee and we could take a nice friendly hand-in-hand stroll through the park, or we could do something equally as enjoyable. My attitude doesn’t have to be the only reason I yell and roll my eyes in the back of my head.”

He winked and your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Five started to pull away.

“So? What do you think? Are you game?” he questioned.

Just then, Klaus came running through, flipping over the back of the couch before tackling Five.

“You can’t leave yet!” he yelled as Five went flying into the back of the chair behind him.

The crowd moved back but it was too late for you and the bowl of chips that went airborne.

Though smaller than his brother, Five was visibly not out matched and he could give two shits about going off on Klaus in front of everyone. Five surged at Klaus, shoving him back but Klaus leaped back up almost as fast as he took a nosedive. He launched himself again, this time frazzling Five’s hair into a fuzzy looking tangled nest but Five disappeared in a flash of blue then reappeared and nailed him in the gut with his knee. 

Klaus curled in on himself but not before snatching the gray fedora off Five’s head. Then wheezing with laughter, he smacked Five in the butt then ran away yelling something extremely mature that sounded a lot like, ‘Na-na na-na boo-boo, can’t catch me I’m the ghost whispering gingerbread man!’

You wiped a hand down your wet face and looked down at your shirt that just got splashed with the high-octane blue beverage Klaus had been holding and accidentally tossed during his ambush.

With his back to you still as he looked in the direction Klaus had run off in, Five angrily breathlessly panted, “Sometimes I really hate that asshole.”

His hands came up, threading through his messy hair, then they ran down his rumpled vest before he straightened his silk tie. He started to turn back your way saying, “The jellyfish has existed as a species for 500 million years, surviving just fine without a brain, so that gives me…” Five’s mouth stopped moving when he saw you, “-that gives me hope for- Him. Shit…” He started yanking his hair again. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Gone was that foxy smile and the smooth talker that seemed to know just how to push all your buttons. Five was fiddling with his hands at his sides like he didn’t know what to do or say now that the moment between you had been interrupted.

Just as you were about to assure him that it was nothing and you were fine, Luther and Diego came over yelling something about them acting like children. Seeing that Five was engaged with yelling back at them, you quickly hurried off to the bathroom.

As you entered Lila and Diego’s bedroom and beelined it for their private bathroom, you couldn’t believe that had just happened or how much Five had gotten to you.

Looking down at your nearly empty drink sitting on the counter, then at your sticky face in the mirror, you laughed at yourself.

In your head, you had already convinced yourself that you were reading it all wrong. There was no way Five was hitting on you, not when there were about a million other better options of people to flirt with out there in this world, not to mention in that apartment.

You were super buzzed enough to let your eyes wander places they shouldn’t and your alcohol loosened lips said some very forward things and he was just messing with you because of it, or maybe even trying to be nice since his family had been drilling him so hard about it.

Sure… Nice wouldn’t be alluding to the things he was, but still. There was no way someone like Five Hargreeves was trying to get with someone like you.

Was there?

Out in the living room, unbeknownst to you, Five had finished telling Luther and Diego to fuck off then he broke away from the crowd.

When he reached his brother’s bedroom door and found Klaus was lying across their bed, he glared bitterly. “Someday I am going to blink you to Antarctica and leave you there.”

Klaus just laughed. “Awww, sorry about that, Lil’ brosnap. I didn’t see who you were talking to. I just thought you were bailing, and I didn’t want you to go yet.” He lazily tossed the stolen gray hat up in the air and purposely nodded towards the door next to the bed.

Glancing that way, Five could see the light pouring out from under the door.

Hearing you talking on your phone inside, he looked at Klaus, shaking an admonishing finger at him. “Thanks to you, she is probably in there calling a cab. She probably wants to get away from me and this moronic family as fast as possible!”

Just as Klaus was about to open his mouth, Five brought a finger up to his lips, wordlessly shushing him. Klaus grinned wider as he twirled the old hat on his finger.

Five came in further, and Klaus loudly whispered, “That’s it. You got this, buddy. She is so wet over your cute little old man ways. Go get her!”

Five stomped over, stealing his new hat from him, then smashed it down on his head.

“She’s wet because you spilled on her!” he snarled, while ignoring whatever else Klaus was suggesting with his dirty hand gestures.

Five silently made his way over to the bathroom door again, raising his hand to knock but paused midair and turned. “Get the fuck out!” he angrily whispered.

Looking thrilled as ever, Klaus jumped up and skipped back out to rejoin the party.

Five took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing, old man.” He quickly readjusted his hat and softly knocked on the yellowed paint covering the wooden barrier in front of him.

He’d hardly pushed on the door, but to both your surprise, the old latch gave and the next thing you knew, you were standing there, with your shirt unbuttoned halfway down and Five staring at you with wide eyes and a rapidly gaping jaw.

“Fuck,” he cursed as you clung to the washcloth you were using to clean yourself while you also clumsily tried to close your shirt, but it was too late, he’d seen your goods and his face looked absolutely stunned from the sight.

“Oh my God this is embarrassing,” you moaned as you turned around, still trying to right yourself.

You were sure Five was going to turn around and walk away and you’d never see his captivating features looking so adorably flustered ever again, but then he stepped inside.

You looked up at his reflection staring back at you through the mirror and that look of shock was replaced by something else entirely menacing.

Five appeared right behind you a second later in a flash of bluish light and you jolted in astonishment over it. You knew about his powers. He’d even given you a tiny taste of what he had inside him when you shook his hand, but you’d never seen it or felt what it was like to have a teleporter’s electrified touch tease your skin by merely flexing his strength that close to you.

Your heart raced.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you gasped.

Five smiled.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” His answer came out so close, his breath tingling the fine hairs on the back of your neck as it cascaded down, making your thighs tense with aching want.

You swallowed thickly, then said, “I thought the door was locked. I- I-ah…”

“I am glad it wasn’t.”

Through the mirror his gaze shamelessly moved down your body before meeting your questioning eyes again.

“I was going to come in here and apologize for what happened out there,” he said, his words quiet and steady, a stark contrast from the torrents of butterflies that were making it feel like you might start quivering all over from him simply being so close. “That was no way for me to treat a lady I was trying to seduce.”

So much for those butterflies staying in their net.

“Wha-what?” you stammered.

“I may look like I am doing nothing while I am awkwardly trying to navigate social situations like this, but in my head, I have been quite busy. The last hour I have been trying to figure out how to approach you. I came to drop off my gifts, but you are the reason I stayed this long.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughed, and you felt the back of his wool pants brush against your leg. “And it turns out Lila wasn’t wrong this time,” he furthered. “I heard so many things about you, but nothing could prepare me for your timeless beauty, or how your mouth moves without your consent because then I get to hear your unfiltered thoughts while your cheeks become as pink as your kissable looking lips.” His eyes lowered to those lips. “In my last relationship one could say I got lost inside my own head, so I am not good at this kind of thing, and I appreciate your candor. If you hadn’t said what you did, I would have never had the balls to speak to you.”

The points of his shoes moved into view next to yours.

“You made it easy for me and the math is really simple. First, add the bed, then subtract the clothes, and hope we don’t multiply. That’s how this is supposed to go, right?”

You rapidly blinked.

“I am just kidding…well, sort of,” he teased. “I know this is fast but speaking of honesty and saying what’s on your mind. I am dying to kiss you. Can I?” he softly questioned.

Without even thinking you whispered back a yes.

Five’s arm began to slip around you and his warm lips hit your shoulder. This was not the kiss you were expecting, but then again, you weren’t facing him and nothing about Five was what you were expecting.

“Do you like this?” he asked against your neck while you fell back into him.

“I do,” you quietly replied as Five applied a barrage of super soft kisses from behind and he tightened his hold.

Not letting up on his affections, he continued tickling you with his lips as the thrum of the song that had just come on rattled the walls in the tiny bathroom.

Was this happening?

Thinking nothing other than you didn’t want this to stop, your hands came up, reaching behind you as your fingertips slid along the crown of Five’s hat, lightly holding him to you.

For someone that supposedly didn’t get out much or date, you were thinking that Five was very good at this seduction thing. Then his hands at your waist loosened and your eyes flit back open the moment his magical lips detached from your skin.

He was watching you with a peculiar sort of expression. You were not sure what you were seeing. You could almost imagine his clever green eyes, slightly more crinkled in the corners, and his sharp jaw, all still the same but different as he aged and someday again became the person he was on the inside.

He was a contradiction of outward behavior and his young face under that old man’s hat had you wanting him in ways that were all sorts of wrong.

“You really do like this hat, don’t you?” he teased as your fingers latched onto the brim again then moved down to the silky ends of his hair that was flipped out boyishly behind his ears.

“I do,” you admitted as you ran your fingernails into his scalp.

⚠️(naughty part starting)

Five let out the sweetest sound of joy over the feel of you touching him, then his body pressed up behind you and you immediately felt the heat of his arousal pressed between your butt cheeks.

Your brain did a somersault, and your mouth went off again. “I mean, I was going to say that- Ah… That you look very nice one way or another, hat or no hat. I should have clarified out there but then I felt stupid for saying anything and then I got all wet and…”

Totally losing your mind and your confidence, you dropped your hands in front of you again, twisting them anxiously.

Five’s smile deepened. “For starters, I had been thinking of grabbing coffee and taking you on a get to know you better date, but now with you writhing your beautiful body all over me, you’ve got me thinking I need to get you even more wet before we can get out of here and do that. Will you let me touch you a little more?” he calmly replied, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly slid his hands over the planes of your stomach, then down over the curves of your waist where he took your hands under his and brought them between your legs.

It felt like you were having an outer body experience.

When you didn’t answer, Five started to pull away and you reactively laced your fingers between his, keeping him attached to you as your body melted back into his like you were two puzzle pieces always meant to be put together.

As you slowly moved your hand in his over your need, there was no denying that you wanted him or that he wanted you, not with how his eyes blithely closed and reopened just as hypnotically as his uttered wishes rolled off his tongue. “Will you let me pleasure you, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart?

You whimpered and closed your own eyes to another one of his feather light kisses moving along your throat.

Five nuzzled his face against your skin, humming in appreciation as he brushed your hair aside and ran his lips over every inch of you that he could get at. The shell of your ear was captured between his lips, his teeth running along the length.

Unwilling and unable to stop this anymore than Five was, you snuck a hand behind you, giving his belt a tug so he poked you from behind hard enough to make your smile brighten with renewed confidence.

Thinking of his impressive erection and the scandal over the fact that the bathroom door was still cracked open, you started to rub your ass back into him very deliberately.

“Oh, fuck, the things I want to do to your sweet ass,” he huskily breathed as his fingers dug into your hips almost painfully.

“Do it then,” you challenged.

“I am going to make it impossible for you to forget me. You’ll be ruined for anyone else when I’m done with you,” Five darkly warned.

“I am not scared,” you purred back, and to that, Five gave a quick huff of a laugh and a not so soft nip on your shoulder in reprimand for your white lie. “It’s okay if you are scared. You’d be foolish not to be.”

After that matter of fact comment, Five contentedly sucked on your earlobe as his hands slid down your thighs, kneading them as he worked your skirt up.

Your barely contained sighs as you repeatedly drove your bottom back against his dick were letting him know you weren’t deterred by his warning, but to your dismay, Five abruptly pulled away again.

Almost right away your mouth opened with a flood of complaints.

“No, Five! Come back!” You had just whined so pathetically that you instantly wanted to hide your face but Five wouldn’t let you. His hand came up, forcing your chin back up so you had to look at him.

Looking happy as ever, Five then nudged his new hat up just a little, making him look even more unbelievably attractive now that it was sitting crooked. "Damn. You’re already a fluttering mess for me,” he said followed by a quick laugh. “You want daddy to do very bad things to you, don’t you, naughty girl.”

“No, I don’t!” you shot back and Five smirked even more at your fake look of indignation.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

Of course, to that, you said nothing and tried to lay it on thicker, sulking even more as you carefully worked your ass back along his shaft despite his lame attempt to hold you off.

“Admit that you have been undressing me with your eyes ever since I walked in the door,” he taunted.

“I was not.”

“You are begging to be punished for these blatant lies,” he coarsely breathed against the back of your neck as he aggressively kneaded his palm over your bottom.

Undeterred by your refusal to give in, Five began urging you to lean over with one of his hands pushing down on your upper back. When you obediently did as he wished, he pulled his hand off you, bringing it back only a second later with a burning slap delivered to your left ass cheek.

Eyes peeled wide, you looked back at him through the mirror, pretending to be appalled, but you cracked quickly enough, smiling back cheekily as you said, “Uh-oh, looks like daddy is mad at me."

At first Five looked surprised by what you'd said but then just as quickly, he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I’m not mad, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for you not confessing how much you want me to fuck you. Almost from the start I knew there was a very bad girl hiding underneath that coy smile of yours.”

Five gave your ass cheek another swift spank. This time it was harder, the blooming sting hitting you both where his hand had just been and between your legs where the fresh flood of your desire leaked hotly onto your panties.

“You’re a dirty girl who wants daddy to fuck you hard. Say it.”

You didn’t, so he did it again. As Five’s hand made contact your body reactively dropped lower and your head thunked against the countertop as a soft moan of desperation crawled out of your mouth.

“You can hardly contain yourself,” Five mocked as he fingers lightly traveled from behind then down over your underwear. As he felt the moist heat he’d caused, Five let out the most filthy sound of approval.

He had called it. You may be a closeted naughty girl but Five Hargreeves was evidently not all he appeared to be either and not in the way you thought.

Flipping your hair and angling your head up, you breathlessly licked the drool from your lips then said, “I can take whatever you’ve got. Give me more if you think you’ve got it in you.” To add to that, one of your high heels lifted and rubbed against Five’s ankle.

Seeming to mentally pause over your comment that was meant to provoke him, Five massaged his hand over the spot he’d just slapped. With the blood raised to the surface of your skin, it almost felt like too much with him just doing that but somehow, compared to you, he still looked mostly unmoved.

You were quickly realizing that Five could be unbelievably tender, but something in him craved submission, which was fine by you but you knew there was only so long before someone came in there and this titillating game of foreplay couldn’t last forever.

Probably realizing the same thing, pulling you back upright, Five leaned into your ear again. “Don’t worry, I got it in me, honey. I am just waiting to hear the right words,” he assured, as he gave your side a fresh tickle while also letting his fingers on his other hand mosey inside your slightly open blouse.

Five’s fingers grazed your round mounds of flesh that were already moving up and down heavily thanks to the coil of need inside you that was building to a point it felt like it could burst at any moment. As his fingers threaded along your nipples another kittenish sigh filled the small room.

“Ah, fuck, I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you frantically moaned. “Please fuck me, Five.”

Just as something slammed into the wall from the other side, you noticed that for the first time Five looked hesitant, but then his breath tensely pulled in and he said, “Fuck it.” He cocked his head at you and grinned. “Hold on tight. I’m not stopping until you’re crying out my name.”

Right then, the 80’s pop song playing ended and a more club type of music started to play, thumping bass through the speakers in the living room loud enough to shake the floor under your feet.

All at once, you lifted your body and grasped the back of Five’s neck as you pulled his face against yours. Trying your best to kiss him, you rolled your body against his to the beat.

He smelled so good, something between fresh air and a spicy rich scent you couldn’t name. His body molded to yours as you moved together in a way you knew someone as reserved as him wouldn’t be doing if you were doing this dance in front of everyone else.

Five rapidly rewarded your efforts to get more of him with his own frantic kisses moving along your jaw as you began massaging your fingers through his soft hair. With his chin, Five worked your collar down while he pushed his hips into you, undulating them to the music.

While he had you occupied with his gyrating dance moves, he shoved his foot back, kicking the bathroom door closed. No sooner was that done, than he had one hand lifting the hem of your skirt again so he could slide it inside the front of your underwear.

Your breath hitched as your body twisted from the abrupt contact of his diligently circling fingers.

His words buzzed in between kisses and him humping your ass.“Do you want to dance with me, or fuck me, sweetheart?” 

You gave him the only answer you could because it was true. “Both”

Pushing him along, you leaned over and gripped the counter in a way that you knew would look very encouraging.

Five kept close, moving right along with you, fingering you with his arm around your front, but he also started tearing at his belt with his other hand, opening it and his pants as fast as he possibly could. Once freed, his pants fell to the floor, the metal of his belt hitting the tiles with a sharp clank.

With that done, Five yanked your underwear down and out of the way. Though you were being dominated by his brilliant finger fucking, you managed to shimmy the lace down the rest of the way, kicking out of the tiny garment once it hit your heels.

No sooner had you done that than Five brought his slicked fingers around your backside, and with no word of warning, he moved two fingers inside you from the back. Just as fast, you were making the most scandalous sounds of consent over the forceful act and how perfectly he was hooking his fingers.

To make it all the better, you could hear Five angrily fisting his erection as he grated out his next words. “I need to be inside you, right now. Just like this. Is that okay?”

To answer his question, you bent just a bit more, inviting him to take what he wanted. Five dipped forward rubbing the tip of dick between your cheeks. The precum seeping out of him brushed down your entire crack as if to scramble your brain even more with the question of which hole he had meant when he said, 'just like this' and 'is this okay.'

The angle was perfect for both one way or another, the counter height just right, and you could even see his beautiful face in the mirror in front of you. Now all he needed to do was take what was already his no matter how he decided to take it. You didn’t care anymore, that was how much this man had broken you.

Only letting out a small noise of complaint when he removed his fingers from inside you, Five was quick to replace them. Shuffling closer with his pants around his polished shoes, and one hand on your hip, Five slid the heavy tip of his cock across your swollen folds.

You tensed slightly when he began pushing inside.

Feeling that, Five’s throat hummed with something pained sounding and he slowed himself.

Your body fought against his as he gradually sunk deeper, everything feeling more intense with him taking you from behind. Your soft sighs as he continued penetrating you were each met with his own hissing curses.

“This feels… Fffff- Oh fuck you feel so good,” he spat.

His praise wasn’t coming out very eloquent compared to his normally more well thought out orations, but considering it felt like he just drove his dick all the way through to your belly button, that was apparently all he had, and you could hardly speak a single syllable or a vowel any better to explain what you were feeling.

Once fully encircled by your heat, while you were lost in how deep he was, Five wasted no time jerking your hips back to him so he could bury himself all over again.

That time he bottomed out on one shove.

“Aaahh-ffffmmm!” you loudly moaned as your hands searched for purchase on the smooth countertop and several bottles of toiletries tipped and rolled into the sink.

“Fuck me. I think my dick just entered the gates of Heaven on Earth,” Five groaned, and you couldn’t help but shakily laugh at that and the completely wrecked face he was making.

Also feeling lightheaded with lust, peering up at him through the mirror, you gave him something else to think about. “I knew my tight pussy would ruin you for anyone else…honey.”

Looking all at once shaken by your garish comment that mimicked his, Five then shocked you when his grip loosened on your waist and his hand reconnected with your ass so hard your legs nearly gave out.

“Such a bad girl,” he growled back with his nostrils flaring but he looked so fucking hot in his near manic state that it and his debasing treatment only made you even more lost in the insanity of the moment and painfully delicious pleasure he was giving you.

“Oh, yes, da-ddy…please, just like that, doh-don’t st-op,” you loudly pleaded with him to keep fucking you just like he was, all the while hoping the music was enough to prevent anyone hearing your sputtered cries.

And just like he’d said, Five didn’t stop.

He slapped and groped, again and again as his cock moved in and out with a carefully calculated cadence. You buried your head against your arm to stifle your moans. Just the sound of his hips thwacking against your butt each time he threw his cock into you was enough to make it feel like you’d lost touch with reality.

Your eyes crashed closed as everything around you disappeared but you and him.

Five reached around your waist so he could play with your clit again and almost instantly, your legs started trembling and that only made him work his hand harder.

“Ffffffff-iiiive!”

His breath hitched with each determined thrust as he disjointedly said, “That’s- Right. Say. My. Name!”

"Oh, fuck yes, Five! Ffffuucc-" Your words were cut off by another obscene sounding whimper.

You were about to double over. The blessing of warmth crashed down around you, your entire body feeling like it could burst as you fell over the edge with pulsing waves of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you breathed in-between Five’s cock sliding in and out of you as your ass continued to get wildly bounced off his powerful hips.

Having taken care of you, Five withdrew his fingers from between your legs, then he gripped you by the hair tugging you up.

Even though you could hardly stand, let alone think straight as your body continued to spasm around his cock, you swiftly complied, angling your head back, as you arched your body against his punishing hold.

This new angle changed things up dramatically and not in a bad way. Five’s cock was filling you, the rounded tip sliding in and out and catching just right. You held your breath as you savored the feeling of him taking complete control of your body.

Your droopy eyes could hardly stay open but every time you tried to close them, Five would tug your hair. “Look at me,” he demanded.

He all but lifted your weight off the floor so he could angle his hips up and down even more, which quickly had you shuddering all over again and showering him with dizzying rambles of praise.

“You are so- So…fuck-ing amazing, Ffff-ivvve. Fu-ah-ah-kkkkk!”

He grunted his agreement, then let go of your waist as he started feverishly trying to get his hands on your breasts. Frustrated that your shirt was preventing him from getting at all of you, he suddenly ripped it the rest of the way open. The buttons flew everywhere, but neither of you so much as flinched as they scattered around your feet.

Having got what he wanted, Five kept at it, fervently grinding myself up against your ass as he massaged and pinched your nipples with his hands shoved under the cups of your bra.

Watching your reflections in the mirror, his darkened eyes felt like they could see right through to your soul. Speaking softly next to your ear, he spoke his next words between low bitten off groans. “I’m not- Stopping. Until you- Ca-um again.”

Even though you had not objected, that didn't prevent Five from digging in the sharp points of his teeth into your shoulder until you breathed the word please, over and over.

Even having just climaxed twice already, and without his hand stimulating your clit, you were close again. You started to shake, your legs turning to jelly with each violent jolt of his hips.

Not sure if you could stay on your feet, you tried to reach for the counter, but Five wouldn’t let you go. He kept at it, tightly detaining you so he could keep plowing into you from behind.

The second you were lost in orgasmic bliss again, he gave in, finally seeking his own release, and it only took a moment more for him to find it.

Five let out a vibration of hummed contentment that danced softly along your neck. He sounded as beautiful as he looked as his cock throbbed and his hot seed filled you, then started to drip down your legs and onto the floor. His thighs kept flexing as he shoved his entire length in and out but his hips gradually lost rhythm.

⚠️(naughty part end)

In between labored breaths Five was doing his best to pepper your shoulders with kisses, though it was sweetly sloppy compared to the way he’d been making a study of treasuring you before.

Despite Five’s seemingly heartless and self-absorbed ways, you were totally falling for this and that was because he was anything but that person he tried to make others see. Five was extremely attentive and loving and you were thinking about that truth when you realized the bass thumping music had been turned way down.

Footsteps were loudly clomping down the hallway leading to the master bedroom.

Your eyes darted towards the door.

Luther called out, “They aren’t in here!”

Not even a half a second later, while a very dazed Five was still slowly undulating his hips and lethargically clinging to you, the door burst open.

“AHHH!” Luther loudly cried.

Both his hands flew up covering his eyes like it would somehow change what he’d just seen.

“So not cool! I- I just saw your bare ass, Five!" he rambled, his jaw opening and closing, the noises coming out, but he couldn’t come up with anything else coherent until he stammered, “We didn’t know where you guys went. We thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Klaus knew where the hell we were,” Five quickly shot back, then languidly kissed your neck where he’d bitten it numerous times, then he looked at his brother in the mirror and much more calmly added, “Luther…shut-the-door.”

Trying to listen to his older but younger looking brother, Luther dropped one hand and blindly started searching for the door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to open the door,” he repeated as he failed to find the knob because he wasn’t letting himself see more than the floor right at his feet.

He appeared to be too scared to step inside to reach for it.

Carefully slipping his length out of you, Five flipped your skirt down, then he reached for his own pants and underwear, pulling them both back up. He didn’t waste time zipping up or fastening his belt because he’d suddenly found it more important to find something to cover your destroyed shirt; the one you were now forced to hold shut manually.

You didn’t even have your underwear. They were over just in front of the door by Luther’s feet, which was probably also why he was too stunned to move. At least you were mostly covered; your bra hid most everything explicit from his eyes, and Five’s body collapsing into yours had covered the rest. Now everything was mostly put away, so you weren’t sure what Luther was freaking out about or hiding from.

Five took a towel from the shelf next to the shower and handed it to you. At that point, you could have cared less one way or another if you had it, but you took it and beamed back at Five, wiping up the mess he’d made of you while also trying not to crack up at the stern look he was giving you for not covering your boobs.

He mouthed for you to cover yourself and you tried not to laugh at how serious he was trying to sound while saying it but it was a total failure and you laughed anyway.

While unfolding the towel in front of your tattered shirt you said, “Well, now I am both wet and super sticky and my chances of finding anyone as amazing as you are destroyed. I guess you accomplished all your goals, Five. I am absolutely ruined.”

Luther glanced out from under his hand for about half a second and Five raised one of his dark brows and the smile he was trying to hold back came out in full.

“Is- Is everything okay?” his brother questioned. Luther looked thoroughly appalled. The poor guy didn’t seem to know how to process this.

When he didn’t leave, and seemed to be waiting for confirmation that everything was fine, Five sighed and smacked his hand away from his eyes, offering him a cavalier looking grin as he said, “Luther, the lock is broken so it wasn’t your fault the door opened when you touched it, and I am a grown-up just like you, and as such, I have needs, which is why I just got my fuck on in Diego and Lila’s shitty bathroom. I would have thought what you saw cleared up any questions you had about what is going on in here, but just in case it didn’t, take a good look at the hard-on I’m still sporting. Turns out, I finally met a real, non-plastic girl that already knows what kind of man I am, and for some reason she likes me anyway. I am smitten with her, and I don’t care who knows it. Now get the fuck out!”

After Five read Luther the riot act, Klaus sauntered in, joining the party. He whistled loudly as he strolled around the doorframe, grinning at you both like an idiot.

“Ye-ah buddy, way to go, Fivey!” he cheered. “You know what they say, carpe diem and all that shit!”

Seeing as Five was not willing to hit up his high five, Klaus waved at you as if you weren’t already aware he was there.

You waved back, feeling your face getting hotter.

“Did Fivey thoroughly plunder you or do you guys need a few more minutes to finish?” he questioned with his eyes moving from yours, down to the front of Five’s pants. “I see Five is still a go in that department, so I suppose we can put off the party games a bit longer if need be.”

Five still hadn't covered himself and the prominent boner he’d already mentioned was still making its glorious presence known. Like out in the living room, realizing he wasn’t going to back down, you said, “No worries. I think I’m thoroughly plundered for the time being, and I’m pretty sure your brother is just still riled up. We will be right out.”

Klaus bit his bottom lip as he nudged Luther. “Our little psycho is finally growing up. Can you believe it?” Klaus’s voice cracked as he pretended to choke up. He even added some fake sniffles and wiped his eyes. There were tears in them, but that was only because he was trying so hard to hold back his laughter.

To take your bathroom post sex chit chat even further down the pisser, you were then graced with both Diego and Lila coming in.

Seemingly unfazed by the bizarre scene before him, Diego took one look at you and then at Five’s open pants and barked, “Come on assholes, put some clothes on. The party isn’t over yet!"

Lila’s grin grew bigger by the second as her eyes flitted from Five’s crotch to you standing behind him. Feeling the need to step in again, you startled Five when your hands slide around his waist.

“Woah! Hi, there,” he cutely gasped, which made both Lila and Klaus laugh. Poor Luther still looked mortified and wasn't at the laughing part yet.

“Just hold still,” you warned as Five got all squirmy when you blew air across the light sheen of sweat heating his neck. “I think you’re scaring the big guy, with your big scary trouser snake.”

Giving Five a pat on his butt for good measure, you pressed yourself tighter to his back side while putting him back to rights, zipping him up, fixing his belt, and then tucking his shirt back in.

“There, all set.” You gave him a peck just below his ear, then smoothed your hands over the fronts of his tensed thighs as you peeked over his shoulder at your audience.

Diego’s smirk had you thinking it was just a matter of seconds before he battered Five with something that would no doubt set him off again, but then he merely chuckled and said, “You really do make that hat look good, man.”

Lila tossed you one of her old band t-shirts and gave you a wicked looking grin of approval that proved she was up to something all along, then she said, “We haven’t done the baby reveal yet but you two already know what we’re having, so if you want to get out of here, have at it.” When neither of you said anything, she added, “I still think you are prat, Five, but you deserve something good like this. Just wipe up that jizz off my floor before you go.”

Diego turned, putting an arm around her while he also tugged Klaus and Luther along with them.

Once they were out of sight, you threw the soft cotton over yourself just as Diego started yelling, and you heard their confetti cannon filled with pink glitter going off. “Now it’s really time to celebrate, people! We’re having a girl and her crazy ass Godfather just got laid for the first time!”

Totally Gobsmacked, your mouth dropped open and you stepped in front of Five. “The first time?”

“Not exactly,” Five replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I mentioned a woman named Dolores before… So there was that.”

Thinking of the sad look in his eyes when he had mentioned her, you hesitantly said, “Is she still…here?” You couldn't’ bring yourself to ask if she’d died but you could tell that something bad had happened.

“She’ll always be here,” Five whispered, followed by a tiny laugh and a curiously timed scratch at his temple. He looked down at the floor. “I guess my wonderful family didn’t tell you about that part.”

“No, they didn’t, but will you?”

“I will,” he replied, looking up at you with a soft smile that almost reached his eyes but not quite.

“Hey. They asked you to be the Godfather?” you questioned, trying to change the subject as you came forward and threw your arms around Five while breathing in the minty scent of his hair as he lowered his head against yours.

“They did,” he replied. “I am already their other little rugrats back up parent and I guess I didn’t screw that up yet, so they figured why not keep things simple.”

“That’s funny. They asked me to be the Godmother.”

Five let out a tired sounding sighed but you could still hear the smile on his lips. “And the plot thickens…”

A moment of silence passed, and you weren’t sure what he was waiting for. 

The door was open. 

“Is it true that you would have been willing to go out there with me?” he softly questioned. Breaking away just a little so he could look at you, Five’s smile looked so hopeful as he added, “I mean, a teleporting, cold blooded killer, with control issues, random bouts of blatant psychosis, big time issues with body dysmorphia, and a ridiculously inflated ego aren’t usually what most people look for in a boyfriend, so I get it if all you wanted from me was a few laughs and my amazing dick.”

You burst out laughing as you tilted your head up and kissed him, your lips finally coming together for the first time, face to face.

Now there was nothing between you and there was no question what your answer was.

Though Five was obviously a very complicated man, and all the freaky daddy sex god stuff aside, you felt like you were starting to understand him and that was because inside where it mattered, he was all heart.

With his hands coming to your back to keep you locked to him, Five slowly kneaded your tongue with his and it felt like you were falling into a trance from the feel of it and the sound of his peaceful breathing. That was until the world around you fell away, the floor ripping out from under your feet as your stomach free fell.

All at once, you were standing outside. The air crackled around you with the remanence of radiating blue light. Your feet were on the sidewalk, and you could make out that your back was pressed up against the dark blue 1970 corvette stingray you had seen parked outside below Diego and Lila’s living room windows.

Reluctantly breaking your kiss that Five seemed not at all in a hurry to do himself, you looked at the sweet man staring back at you with so much passion in his eyes. His smooth skin was flushed ever so slightly, and his dark hair was sticking out from under that hat in ruffled twists along his long neck.

“Are you ready for that walk in the park now?” he questioned.

You were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading and if you've read my first series posted over on A03 and this one seemed a little familiar, it's because this one was inspired by a scene in part two of that story. It was just too fun not to turn it into a reader insert one-shot for those who aren't interested in reading 800,000 word, 3 part stories about our awesome guy. 😂👌

Link to my Five Art/Fanfic master post

Link to all my Tumblr posts

Link to visit me on A03

[feuerscram]

I know no one will see this, but I think we need to speak a bit more about Stanley and Stanford.

You see, I saw this post from @skipppppy, I choose Stan, and I was really surprised to learn that so many people do like him more than Stanford.

I mean, from what I can see on Tumblr, their is way more fanart of Ford than of Stan. Or at least more of Ford without Stan than of Stan without Ford (hope you're still following me there). Or at least that's the impression I get.

So I was wondering: why? Usually, when a character is seen as the best, he is the one that people like better, isn't he? So they draw him and write about him more, right? So why doesn't this seem to be the case here?

Luckily! I think I have an idea why!

That's because of shipping. Of course!

I mean, look at Ford! He has not one, but two love interests in the persons of Bill and Fiddleford! One is even somehow canon! If you count all the AU with Bill, you get even more!

He has toxic yaoi! So much possibility of drama! Cries! Blood! Broken trust! Every angsty sceneries you'd like to see or read!

[insert picture where Fiddleford and Stanford are in university -yes, the one where Ford is covered with post-its- because I couldn't find it :(]

And we have doomed yaoi! Two besties who got separated by the worst unfortunate events ever! Almost as much drama, but also a lot of potential fluff since Fiddleford is undoubtedly a way healthier relationship for Ford than his one with Bill!

So what about Stan?

Well, Stan has also two love interests. (From what I saw). Fiddleford and a square. (I'm so sorry, I don't know his name 😭). Probably also Eda from the Owl House if I try to be fair. (And I never saw anything shipping him seriously with Lazy Susan.)

Let's "analyse" them!

Fiddlestan: I think this ship is mostly born from people who are shipping Billford, but still want McGucket to be happy. Also they don't want Stan to be alone forever. That's how I see it at least! There are really cute pieces of art for this ship, but I think it may be less interesting for some people, since they don't interact a lot in the show.

Stan X square guy: I don't really follow this idea (as you may have understood already x), so I think this is mostly to give an equivalent to Billford, but with Stan. Also the joke that makes them the "shape-fucking brothers" is pure genius.

Stan X Eda: this one is probably the nearest from a canon ship since they may well have been married ! I hadn't seen much of this one, so maybe that's why it looks not really popular to me.

Conclusion: for Ford, we have two ships that are approved by canon, with canon characters.

For Stan, we have one ship with an actual character from the show -but who is himself not mostly shipped with Stan-, one ship with an original character, and one ship with someone from an other show. None of these ships seems to be preferred or really common: there's no consensus about Stan's love story.

If my theory is correct, and people are more drawned to write or draw about romance, then it may be why there's more content with Ford alone than with Stan alone. If Stan is cast with someone, it's usually so he doesn't stay alone, not because he seems to have a great vibe with someone. But maybe he is better alone? Alone but not lonely. Maybe his family is enough for him. Idk!

So that's it! Thanks for reading my useless rambling that comes from nowhere but my brain. If you don't agree with me, please feel free to tell me what you think. I know very well that what I said may be wrong, so just stay polite please.

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 8.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

wordcount: 4.7k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

i've been planning this chapter for months now, i hope you all enjoy! there is a surprise in this chapter 👀

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, talk of chronic pain and illness

story playlist

It was slowly nearing half a year since Shera and Cregan arrived at King’s Landing– she still hadn’t gotten used to the heat but she had finally, somehow, begun to adjust to the people, the looks, the whispers and sneers. 

She, albeit slowly, was losing care in such things. She had been spending more and more time with the people she cared about– the ones who made her happy. She still visited Helaena and the children once a day and sometimes would even stay overnight and giggle under the covers with the princess like they would when they were children.

Her mornings started by watching Aemond spar with Ser Cole. She didn’t hide from it anymore– as she felt… somewhat liberated from showing her eye to him. She couldn’t exactly explain, to herself, much less anyone else, why she felt warmer than usual when watching him clash swords with his mentor. Sweat dripping from his face, the little sneer he plastered on when he was particularly concentrating. It felt like butterflies were trapped in her stomach, beating against her skin to get out. It was unfamiliar at first, the feeling– but now it’s become a recognized acquaintance, even if she couldn’t exactly name it.

Aemond, as well, had taken it upon himself to make more effort to spend time with Shera. His days before she returned to King’s Landing were very structured, very planned and scheduled. He would wake up, spar with Cole from morning light until lunch with his mother, then back to sparring until early evening when he would wind down by reading in his chambers, eat dinner, and then go to bed. ‘Going to bed’ didn’t really indicate sleeping, however. He didn’t need much of it to function and found the dreams (and nightmares, to his chagrin) that came with sleep uncouth– so he laid, usually for hours, until his mind drifted into the lightest of sleep cycles. He valued organization and repetition– impromptu changes to such a rigid routine were unwelcome. 

Except for Shera– a very impromptu change to his life on her own. Mayhaps unwelcome at first, his outward antagonistic behavior to her was improper and came from a place of, surprisingly, regret. Regret and self-loathing. Usually, he attributed the feeling of self-pity and self flagellation in association with his brother, who was in all rights, a pathetic example of a man (but still his brother and wouldn’t tolerate such talk about him from anyone else) but when Shera came back, walking down that hall– she had looked so small, like she was a fragile heirloom on the verge of breaking at any moment. She could hardly walk without guidance and hid herself. 

When his mother said she was returning, as vague as it was, he felt some sort of resentment bubbling up in his gut. What gave her the right to return now? He fully expected her to be the epitome of a Northern lady, hardy and strong, unyielding. The letters ‘she’ (unbeknownst to him at the time, the words were fabrications of Cregan) sent after Driftmark, painted the picture of someone who was fine, who was well adjusted, who didn’t have to go through moons and moons of relearning how to be a person. The image of Shera he had concocted into his mind, and onto paper– an icy woman with fiery hair who would come to blows with someone rather than shed a tear– was not what he saw. 

No, what he had seen in that hall, who he had seen– he didn’t recognize her. Then, seeing the small curl of copper hair, the fur stole, the wolf. It struck him like a bolt of lightning, spurring every cell in his body into action, setting them on fire. Blood pumped in his ears and he could hardly hear her (whispering voice aside). 

She was broken. Harsh, yes– but it was true. She was a shell, behest to the terrible experience they both suffered.

Regret flooded through him. She was this way because of him, because he dragged her along in the middle of the night to watch him claim Vhagar.

I should have killed them. I should have killed them. 

And he retreated from her. He hardly remembers his words to her after she came out from his mother’s chambers– they felt vile in his mouth, like spewing venom. The primal part of him, the dragon, was unruly and restless.

He couldn’t stop lashing out at her–

But what did he really feel? 

He fucking missed her. He missed her more than he could ever profess. He wouldn’t admit it outloud, of course, he had to maintain some form of self-preservation. 

After their night in her room, after seeing her eye– there was a shift. They spent more time together and she became a fixture of his schedule. 

Wake up, spar with Cole and have Shera watch him until noon, they would lunch together three days out of the week with Helaena. He cut his afternoon sparring in half and spent that time with Shera. At first it was awkward, but they melded into one another like their youth quickly.

She begged him to teach her how to draw, to help strengthen her eyesight.

“It… it hurts to focus.” she sniffed, looking up at him. She didn’t wear her veil when they were alone, which he made sure they were when they were drawing. Her blind eye was red rimmed slightly, twitching. 

He had set up a vase on a small table for her to draw– it was a simple clay vase with a depiction of two nightingales in flight. They had just moved on from plain objects to something a bit more detailed, albeit only by a little bit.

“Don’t strain, Shera. Just… look at it normally. It’s blurry in some places, right?” 

“… yes.” 

“Okay. You looked at it up close for a good five minutes. Do you remember what was on the side?”

“The… the nightingale imprint.”

“You can see it in your mind, but it’s not clear to the eye. Use your memory to fill in the blanks.” 

“Aemond— this… this is just a test of memory. How is this helping my eyes?”

“Trust me.” 

She started off shaky, her first slew of sketches no better than his were when he had first started, but she fell into it quickly. She developed her own style, straying from the charcoal that Aemond used exclusively, and opted for more colorful tools– she had woad paste pastels imported from Dorne. They would sit and depict the same thing and come out with completely different results.

It was so easy to forget that she was betrothed to another. That she was to leave soon.

That she was to be his nephew’s wife. His nephew who didn’t give a shit about her. His nephew who was there. Did no one else think it a bit sick that she was to be the wife of someone who took a part in her mutilation? 

Was he the only sane one? 

He sighed softly as they finished up their drawings for the day. They had been sketching the coastline of Blackwater Bay– Shera went with a color scheme of blue and green and sparse spots of orange and yellow. 

He stuck to his monochromatic charcoal.

“Rhaenyra’s name day gala is… in a fortnight, right?” Shera hummed, using her foot to pet Moongeist, who was at her feet. 

“Mm,” Aemond responded, flicking some errant charcoal powder from his doublet. “A mummer’s farce, if you ask me.”

“... I don’t care much for events– but at least… your mother and sister are getting along,” she tilted her head as she wiped her hands off. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent had been working together to plan the event and were in high spirits. They were frequently seen chatting lightheartedly. 

“Half-sister,” Aemond clarifies, giving her a pointed look.

“Half-sister,” Shera says, brows raised. “I suppose it is a send off, too– since…” her voice trails off slightly, not really wanting to talk about her impending wedding to Jacaerys. She hasn’t spoken much to her betrothed as she didn’t feel the need to– she let him run around with her brother and do what he liked. She imagined it wouldn’t be much different when they were married.

An uneasy silence settled over them. There were many words on the tips of their tongues that they just couldn’t say– it would make it real.

“Shera-,”

“Aemond-,”

They spoke at the same time, standing up simultaneously. Moongeist made a warbling chuff sound that sounded like a laugh.

He must be sick of our antics.

“I should get back to my chambers– before dinner. Cregan wants to… eat with me, for some reason.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed in his usual manner.

—

Shera sat across from Cregan, leg crossed over the other as she fed Moongeist scraps under the table.

“What did you want to speak about?” she broke the silence, glancing up at him. She had put her veil back on– to her dismay, as she had come to like not having it on… around Aemond, at least.

“Do I need a reason to want to dine with my sister?” he asked, clenching his jaw slightly. 

“... no,” she mumbled, flicking her nails against one another. “But you don’t usually dine with me.” 

He chewed on his piece of mutton slowly, regarding her. “I’m leaving, Shera. I need to go back North.” 

“Why?” she blurts out, a bit more emotionally than she wanted to. She and Cregan didn’t have a great relationship, but they were… siblings. There was familiarity. 

“I’ve stayed too long already, there is a keep to run, things to do, Shera,” he narrowed his gaze. “Will you be alright… alone?” 

Her lip caught between her teeth. “... I suppose so.” she and Cregan had their moments– she thought he was a huge idiot most of the time, but that was her brother. She had been by his side for the last ten years and he nursed her back to some semblance of health when she returned from Driftmark. No matter the choices he made, the ones he made for her– they were all one another had, really. 

Her chest ached slightly that he would be going back North and leaving her here. She wouldn’t be alone, per say, but… her blood would be so far away.

“Will you… attend the wedding?” she asked then, drawing little circles on the table with the tip of her nail. 

“Yes, I’ll return to Dragonstone for it.” 

“Dragonstone?” Shera looked up, slightly alarmed. “I thought the wedding would be in King’s Landing?”

Cregan stopped chewing, suddenly looking sheepish. It was unbecoming of him. “I… yes,” he cleared his throat. “Jacaerys said that after his mother’s name day gala, they will move back to Dragonstone.”

Why does no one tell me anything? “Hm.” she grumbled, sounding much like Aemond– she’s picked up on his little mannerisms and made them her own, it seemed.

“You will be going with them and will be wed soon after.” 

She made another noncommittal noise, scraping the remains of her plate to the floor. She’d lost her appetite. 

She would be alone sooner than she thought.

—

Returning from a luncheon with Helaena, a few days after Cregan’s departure, she discarded her veil right away as soon as the door was closed behind her. 

She waved her hand in front of her face, despairing in the heat of the South. Moongeist agreed, his tongue lolling out in a pant as he lapped at a small tub of water at the foot of the bed. 

“It’s too hot for us here, dovey,” she whimpered, wiping sweat from her brow, beginning to strip the various layers of clothing she had on— she did have somewhere to be later in the day, but she would simply have to redress. “I hope Dragonstone is more breezy, lest we melt.”

The layers flew off of her, pooling upon the floor like a puddle of dark ichor. It likely didn’t help that she only wished to wear dark colors, attracting the heat of the sun to her poor constitution. Her cheeks flushed red with the errant warmth and she wondered if this was how those with Targaryen blood felt all of the time— constantly huffing, puffing, warm and sweating. It was terrible. 

Finally in nothing but her shift and underclothes, she walked to the bed, hand reached out to peel back the blanket when something shiny caught her eye. 

Investigating further, she found a small velvety box, opened to reveal a silver choker, inlaid with three sapphires. Blinking profusely, Shera carefully pried the piece out of its holdings and inspected it. It was, to say the least, flawless. It matched her silver earrings that she always wore almost down to the exact detail, the engravings even the same— long, flowing tendrils into the metal, outlining the gems like garlands. Pearls hung from the bottom of each sapphire. Her thumb roved over the center sapphire, the largest one and the most prominent. It was cool to the touch. 

Gently placing the choker down, she dismantled the box looking for a note or any indication of who might have left it. She guessed it to be Jace— did he intend for her to wear it to the gala? She would have to find a garment to match. 

Shera descended to her wardrobe, rummaging through until she landed on something that would go swimmingly with her new necklace. It was a dress she hadn’t worn at all, and had been tailored for her shortly before leaving Winterfell. It was a silver and blue dress with intricate embroidery akin to that of a Godswood, but the leaves were a cool toned blue rather than red. She had a pearl-laden head garment, imbued with a silken veil and ringed headdress of sorts, with silver moons hanging down on each side. 

Curious.

–

“You… must stay outside, lovey,” Shera murmured to Moongeist. She had received a missive– unclear from who, but either Alicent and Rhaenyra– that they would prefer if her wolf was not in attendance to the gala. She wanted to cry, leaving him outside of the ballroom. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t really command her companion– their relationship, as impenetrable as others may see it, was the culmination of years of hard work and trust. They were so attuned to each other, Moongeist knowing when she was pushing herself too far, when she was in distress, and when he needed to step into a situation. He was, on all accounts, very polite and well-mannered – for a wolf. He had never bitten anyone who didn’t deserve it. His good conduct thus far and impeccable record was apparently not enough for him to be admitted to the event. He whined as Shera snuffed into his fur, murmuring soft nothings into it. “I’ll return as soon as I can,” she whispered. “I’ll come get you when everyone leaves and you shall have all the scraps you’d like.” 

Tearing herself from him, he sat dutifully outside of the glass door that led from the gardens into the ballroom. She willed herself not to cry, not to cry. 

She was unsteady on her own feet, hoping to find someone familiar to steady herself on. The last option of familiarity presented itself first. Jacaerys spotted her right away, putting a hand on her waist. “Shera,” he smiled warmly. “You look… wonderful tonight. Mother is going to be so happy to see you in attendance.” 

“Jacaerys,” she responded, willing a smile on her face. He was better than no one. She steadied herself by putting a hand on his shoulder. His eyes, usually sparkling with mirth, were a bit dim. He seemed… forlorn. “We don’t have such lavish events like this much– up North… apart from feasts. There usually isn’t much dancing.” 

He swallowed, his brow furrowing minutely. “May I interest you in a dance, then?” 

“Mm,” she hummed as they descended to the dance floor. She thought about her dance with Helaena and Aemond on the night of her betrothal dinner– it all felt so far away now. She tilted her head slightly as they danced. Jace’s head was looking to the door, as if he was waiting for someone. “As annoying as he is– I miss him as well.”

Jace looked slightly bewildered. “Pardon?”

“I may only be able to see from one eye, but I’m not completely blind,” Shera murmured. “You’ll see him again.” 

The prince softened slightly, nodding his head. He was grateful for the words.

They danced a bit more and mingled, more so Jacaerys talking to people and stringing Shera along. Somehow, through it all, she became separated from him, walking on her own through the throngs of people. The heat, even with her less thick layers than usual, was stifling– from all of the bodies. 

She suddenly felt… panicked, like when she was lost in the tunnels that one evening. “Excuse me,” she whispered hurriedly as she pushed through people, who didn’t even seem to see her there. “Pardon m–” 

Her voice was cut off by a strong arm pulling her around her waist. Her anxiety damped right away as the familiar smell of sandalwood and leather took over her senses. Aemond looked down at her. “Lost again?” he was wearing a black and deep purple button-up doublet, with a long overcoat. It had a flared collar. He looked nice– it wasn’t much different color wise to his usual garb, but it absolutely wasn’t something he would spar in. He was even without his sword– but a brush of Shera’s hand near his waist revealed he did have his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“... mayhaps.”

“And where is your guide? It is unlike your dog to abandon his post.” 

“He wasn’t invited to the gala,” Shera frowned.

“And you’ve… been left alone?”

“Jacaerys was–” 

Aemond held up his hand. “You don’t need to tell me any more,” he rolled his one eye. “He wouldn’t be able to keep track of you if you were the size of a dragon.” 

They fell into an easy sway– he was much more relaxed than he was when they first danced. But Shera couldn’t shake what her brother had said– they… Rhaenyra and her brood, which included Shera now, would be leaving a few days after the gala. She hadn’t told Aemond, she didn’t know how.

“You’re worried,” he tilted her chin up to him so their gazes could meet. “I can feel your unease from here.” 

“... I…” her mouth felt dry, her hand clutching his inner elbow shakily. “We’re leaving.” 

Aemond stayed silent.

“Jacaerys and I… are to be wed upon Dragonstone– and we are to leave… in a few days.” 

Aemond still declined to speak.

“Aemond,” she pressed her thumb into his skin. 

“You can’t leave again,” he stated. He did not ask, nor plead. He stated it, as if it was a definitive fact. “I won’t let you.” the same moment of rage she had seen before was there, bubbling under the surface. A vein in his neck bulged out and she could feel the control he was trying to keep over himself, over the situation. He gripped her face with both hands now, boring into her with a surprising and sudden placid smile.

–

With a hand over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra scanned the crowd. It’d been so long since she properly enjoyed an event. The planning of it with Alicent had been… more fun than she thought it’d be, and the two women quickly fell back into a rapport, akin to when they were girls together.

It felt right.

Her eyes eventually fell upon two familiar faces— Shera, her veil pulled back slightly by Rhaenyra’s half-brother, Aemond. His hand gripped her face softly, but with intensity as the two locked gazes, lips pursed, brows furrowed, clearly in a heated conversation. It took Rhaenyra all but five seconds to be teleported back to her own wedding to Laenor, all those years ago, where she and Daemon had been in the exact same position— where she had dared Daemon to cleave through her father’s men, steal her away to Dragonstone and make her his wife. 

Fuck.

–

“They think you are tame and controlled— but I can see it, the blood welling and boiling just under the surface of your skin. You’re hardly holding it together,” she whispered harshly. “Do you not think I’ve tried to devise everything I could… to stay? To stop any of this?”

“Quell me, then. Let me take you to marriage and let me cut your lip, taste your blood in the ways of old. Dampen my molten blood. I’ll do it in an instant, under the heart tree, in the molten halls of the Dragonmont– anywhere,” his nail pressed into her cheek, angling her head upward to look directly at him. No escape from madness, look me in the eye, he seemed to taunt silently.

It was overwhelming. She was overwhelmed with the warmth in her stomach, the butterflies she felt– they bursted into ash, searing into her like a brand. Shera felt the world around her chill, her extremities cold. “A-Aemond,” she croaked, her hand grasping at his shoulder with all of her might, but it’d only came through as a light tug. “A-Aem—“

Coldness spread through her, her vision fading to white. Then she was warm, extremely so— like she was on fire, panting and spewing hot breaths from her open maw. 

Blinking her eyes— she was outside, her heavy wisps fogging the glass pane on the door. Wait. She had full vision, not just the one. It felt odd, so wrong for her to be able to see all around her like she was whole and normal. 

Why was she outside? Just let me in, Godsdammit, let me in! She growled low, hands coming up to scratch at the wood and glass, nails digging into it. Her nails were longer than normal and much sharper, a deep black in color. 

She wanted in, in, in, in— her hands, no— her paws and claws shredded at the door, eyes peering into the crowd. They were gathered around, shifting slightly to let her see what was going on—

They were gathered around her, eyes rolled back in her head as she laid limp in Aemond’s arms. She saw Jacaerys storming over, already hurling accusations towards Aemond. 

No, no, he didn’t do this, stop! She screamed, barking and howling, her teeth biting into the wood and beginning to rip it apart, splintering and cracking the glass. 

Shera watched in horror as Jacaerys unsheathed his sword. Aemond was still holding her, loathing to give her up— 

Stop, stop, stopstopstop! She bursted through the weakened door, glass and all, feeling it tear at her fur and skin. Patrons gasped around her as she mulled through them towards the center, snapping and snarling. 

“Moongeist, calm down!” Jacaerys said, his eyes wide in surprise as she sat between him and Aemond. 

So she was Moongeist— that is why it felt so familiar. She, no, they drew their lips back in a growl, hackles raised. Back off, back off, back off! They screamed, snapping at anyone who got too close. 

‘That wolf has gone mad!’ 

‘Is that the prince’s intended?’

‘Yes, but not the prince that’s holding her.’

‘How wanton.’ 

They panted heavily, still feeling a deep rage within them. Everyone was too close, too close– the sounds of the gala drowned out as they looked to the upper windows of the ballroom. A familiar sight to behold– the cream colored blur and siren’s song of a voice. 

A beige and cream colored barn owl sat atop the eave of the window, staring down at them with wide eyes.

‘Now you know, dear Shera.’

–

Shera awoke later, still cold as ice. She was back in her own body but still felt the remnants of itching fervor from being in Moongeist– not ‘in’, it had a word. Warg. She heard children’s tales about it, how a man can enter the mind of a beast and become one with it. 

She glanced around the room. Aemond was pacing– she was in… her chambers. Jaw clenched, she sat up from the settee with surprising vigor. 

“Shera–” Aemond sputtered, stopping his pacing. 

“Hush, come with me,” she grabbed his wrist and strung him along, feeling more lively than she had in ages. Moongeist padded alongside them, hugging to her leg just in case. 

She led them down to the weirwood, not letting go of her grip on him.

“You cannot lie to me, Aemond Targaryen, not here. Do you see that?” she gestures to the face etched in the bark of the Great Oak– staring back at the two of them.

How silly they must look.

“Do… not… lie to me,” Shera pleaded. She approached him, her hand skimming the edge of his jaw. He was so warm, always so warm– he permeated through the cold she always felt. “You can lie to everyone else. Keep… those walls up and don’t let anyone in. But not… not to me. Never to me,” she was trembling with the weight of what she was asking, her fingers drumming against his skin. “Did you mean it? Did… you mean it? You want me here with you?”

He stilled her by covering her hand with his own. “I wouldn’t–,” Aemond murmured, his free hand coming up to unhook his eyepatch. Her breath hitched as he discarded it. The moonlight caught the concaves of the gem first, expanding over the flecks of blue, all shades of it.

A sapphire.

She palmed the matching stones on her mysteriously gifted choker. “You… you… your eye…” Shera stumbled slightly, her knees wobbling beneath her.

Aemond held her upright with one arm, slung around her waist. “Hm?” he asked in return, a playful lilt to his voice– something only reserved for her.

“It’s… it’s blue!” she squeaked, pulling his face closer to her, observing with the same scrutiny that she had when they were sketching together. “And… and…” she kept babbling, tugging at her gifted choker. “And this? You… you git! You… cad! Oh, you’re incorrigible.” her words were inflammatory in nature but she… was laughing– as much as she could anyways. It was a quiet giggle, like the soft trill of a small bell.

It made Aemond chuckle in return. The two of them soon devolved into a fit of joviality. “I quite like you in blue, Shera. In my color,” he leaned down to whisper in the shell of her ear. “I had to let Jacaerys know… exactly…” he punctuated each word as his hand made a home on her jaw, inching closer to her lips. “... where and to whom,” his thumb pulled down her bottom lip. “You belong.” 

Every nerve in her body was on fire. She’s never felt so warm, so hot in her life. Is this what it felt like to be a Targaryen? Gods, it was fucking stifling.

“And… to be clear,” he continued. “You belong here. With me.” 

Her mouth parted, she was barely breathing. She… she wanted… she wanted to kiss him. She wanted him, more than anything she’d wanted before. She was mad; this was mad. Even on shaking legs, she pushed herself on her tippy-toes, pressing their lips together. 

She felt… elated. More than elated, it felt like she was flying, skimming the clouds like a dragon, wings spread… free.

Aemond melted into her right away, pulling her closer as they melded together. His tongue swiped against her lower lip as he caressed her so softly, so gently– more gentle than she could ever imagine him being.

This was the first time she ever took something– something she wanted, and she got it. It was selfish, she knew– selfish and dangerous and reckless and just… hers. This was hers. He was hers. “Mine,” she whispered as they caught their respectful breaths. “If… I’m yours, then… you are mine, right?” she clarified, a bit less confident than her previous possessive declaration. “Quite right, little wolf.” he hummed, pressing another kiss to her temple. 

In a brazen show of exuberance, she captured his lips once more.

Things were forgotten. Namely, everything that wasn’t them in this moment. Their individual turmoils, their shared despair. All notions of her mysterious collapse, Aemond’s scuffle with Jacaerys, Shera’s impending marriage to the said prince, tensions rising between two sides of a family–

This was for them. 

The only time that either of them had taken anything for themselves in the last ten years.

--

a/n: ART IN THIS CHAPTER BY @lonelymagpies who, as always, was LOVELY to work with! they captured the scene perfectly.

[ingravinoveritas]

Feeling really normal about Georgia calling Michael "the boyfriend of my husband"

Okay, so...wow. Definitely a lot to unpack today, but first let me wish our own Welsh seduction machine the happiest of birthdays. Happy Birthday, Michael! 🎉🎂

So, there have been a few posts since last night, and my thanks to @moriarty-sisters for including the above screenshots. Posting some larger ones so we can take a better look, starting with AL's post:

And then we have Georgia's from this morning:

(Standard disclaimer that what follows here is only my opinion/observations, and does not mean that I am completely right. As I've said before, if I am wrong, I am more than happy to acknowledge that.)

It appears that a party was held in Michael's honor last night, and David and Georgia were in attendance. There has been some confusion about the pictures because Michael's hair length/facial hair are different in the group photo vs. the party photos, so to your Ask @kime11e (which I did not include here just to keep this less cluttered), I think that the group photo is not actually from last night (which then makes me wonder why Georgia didn't post one from last night, but more on that in a minute).

So, of course the first thing that stands out about all of this is Georgia calling Michael David's "boyfriend." As I've mentioned previously, Georgia has been calling Michael David's "other wife" since the end of 2021. (David has also called Michael his wife in other contexts, which was confirmed by Rob Wilkins.) "Boyfriend," however, is new. And in this instance, "boyfriend" feels very deliberate. While I don't think it's possible to say that this confirms what the exact dynamic between them is, what I think is confirmed is that something about that dynamic has changed.

But let me go back for a moment and talk about AL and Georgia's posts and the differences between them. In Anna's post, I was particularly struck by the difference in Michael between the picture of him and AL vs. the picture of him with the cake. The disconnect to me is so strong that it's like looking at two different people--the real Michael (cake picture) vs. the version of himself Michael becomes in every picture with her, as if he is playing a role. There is no light in eyes, no trademark twinkle that we so often see--he's just muted, somehow. And Anna again is so wrapped up in showing him off and making sure that she looks good in the picture that she doesn't seem to care how Michael looks.

I do want to note that I would not even be saying this were it not for the fact that this is the...third?...picture he's taken with her in the last month and a half where he looks like this (and noticeably only in pictures with her):

I've mentioned this previously on my blog, but even if Michael is doing a "bit," he is choosing to look this way in pictures with Anna. Seeing the response to Georgia's post today, however, I almost wonder if it's because they know the fans will never take anything the four of them do seriously, to where AL could say (just as an example) "Michael and I hate each other," and the fans would eat it up and say how funny they are. So in that sense, I could see them deciding to stop pretending entirely and for Michael to let his true feelings out because it's easier to hide in plain sight. I don't know for certain that is the case, but I also don't know how else to explain AL seemingly having no problem with her partner looking like this in multiple pictures with her.

Going back to today's birthday posts, aside from the pictures, I was also perplexed by Anna's caption on her post. It's so over the top in some ways, but somehow not enough at the same time. Again, this would have been an opportunity to say what a great father Michael is, or how he's such a wonderful person, but instead, Anna's caption focuses on how great she is for being willing to throw confetti on the floor, and to celebrate Michael's birthday even though it's apparently an inconvenience. It comes across as self-involved and self-serving, which is further augmented by this tweet of Anna's from earlier bragging about how great she is for the birthday present she got for Michael. All of this taken together, I think what bothers me is how it feels more like Anna is promoting herself than Michael, and that she saw his birthday less as a special occasion and more as a PR opportunity.

Looking at Georgia's post, what stood out to me (apart from the caption, that is) is the picture. Something I have noticed is that Anna seems to always have that tight, pained smile on when anyone other than her is taking the picture. I think Georgia knows enough about "bits" and narratives to know how to set things up, and it's interesting to me that when she does, Anna sort of looks out of place, even unintentionally. Then we have Michael and David, who are beaming in this group picture, and Michael in particular has a huge smile on his face, as he often seems to whenever David is near. And again, for me it's the massive contrast between Michael's expression in that group picture vs. in pictures with AL, as well as the contrast between Georgia and AL's expressions vs. Michael's and David's. What also stood out is what wasn't posted: A picture of Michael and David together.

Which brings me back to my earlier point about the dynamic between the four of them, and to @phantomstars24's comments. I think what's most noticeable to me is that, contrary to what I have also seen some folks say today, this is not "Oops, we're all dating" or a continued joke about them being a polycule (at least not in the way that many fans are assuming). Because in all of this, not once has there ever been a comment or joke about David/Anna or Michael/Georgia. (Heck, Anna doesn't even post a word about David on social media unless it's a reshared post from Georgia or official promo/behind the scenes photos.) So the contrast between what is available for public consumption (group photos, Michael/AL photos) and what isn't (Michael/David candid photos) is very curious.

With that in mind, what this this feels like is a shifting of a preexisting narrative as a form of damage control. Because, as we remember, Georgia has been calling Michael David's "other wife" since 2021, so why didn't she start the "flirting" with Anna at that same time? Or even in 2020, when the first season of Staged happened? Why wait until four years later, especially when she had ample opportunity to do this well before now? Perhaps we will never know why, but if I had to guess, I would say Georgia didn't have a need or reason to do it until now. And as the saying goes, the best place to hide the truth is between two jokes. "Anna is my wife." / "Michael is David's boyfriend." / "Georgia is my wife." Hiding in plain sight, while also taking the heat off of Michael and David.

Again, I realize everyone has different interpretations of this, and I am not going to tell anyone that their interpretation is wrong, or that they have to agree with me. But for me (and I would guess for many others), shipping Michael and David did not start with Georgia calling Michael David's "boyfriend." There is no way that that statement alone would cause such a reaction, but rather the cumulative effect of everything that has happened since 2018, including Michael and David flirting and adoring and eyefucking each other in countless interviews and appearances and much more, long before Georgia ever said a word about it on social media. Now that she has, however, it would seem almost foolhardy to discount the possible reasons why, and in my opinion, I can't see why it wouldn't be as likely that it's because Michael and David are lovers as it is because they are good friends.

So yes, those are my thoughts on today's events. Glad as always to hear from my followers and see what you think of these latest developments. Thanks for writing in! x

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream: Child in your Womb

Hello guys, sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy. My schedule is less hectic this week, so I will be posting at least twice more. This is not edited. I read through it, but I could have missed something, so please excuse any mistakes. These pictures have been linked in previous chapters already

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ per usual, but this one just has some violence and mentions of pregnancy.

Chapter 8

It was late evening when a slave brought my missing letters to me on an ornate golden platter as promised. Feyd lounged on the bed totally nude while I replied to the many letters my father had sent and the one solitary letter my mother wrote. Although, calling it a letter was an overstatement. It was more of a message. A warning that I would be receiving a visit from the old woman I met many years ago when I was just a girl. No reasons were given as to why she was coming, simply that I should expect her. 

The days that followed my encounter with Baron Vladimir were surprisingly calm. Feyd and I had trained early this morning and I found myself feeling fatigued. I had bathed and changed with the help of Mia who reminded me that the Harkonnens' very own Suk doctor was expecting me today. Mia led me to the medical wing of the palace. It smelled...medicinal somehow and looked even more sterile than the rest of the cold bleak palace. 

“Na Baroness, welcome. Please sit on the exam table.”

The exam was quick and the outcome was not surprising. There was life inside me. A fluttering heart could be heard by the doctor's trained ear.

“A healthy heart is a good indicator the child will thrive. I have here a supplement you must take daily.”

“What is it for?”

“It’s filled with nutrients you may be missing in your new diet here on Giedi Prime.”

I nod and take the supplement along with a glass of water downing both.

“You may start to experience some pregnancy related illness. If so, send a message, you needn’t suffer through it.”

I make my way back towards my quarters with Mia there to guide me. She was doing a poor job at hiding her beaming smile after hearing the news alongside me. At least she was happy, I’m sure that feeling was rare for her. Once we returned to the bed chamber I felt relieved and terrified all at once. Now that I carried life I felt the slow tendrils of fear start to seep into my marrow. What would become of us?

“Now that you carry Na Barons child there will be many celebrations in your honor in these coming weeks. You will no longer be hidden away here in these rooms. You will be received into the public eye.”

I simply listen to her. She was knowledgeable and a true asset to me, maybe one day we would talk as friends as opposed to master and slave.

“There will be many feasts, and Na Baron will perform for you in the arena. You’ll be introduced to a group of ladies that you may call on and invite here to entertain.”

“All this now that I’m with child? What’s the significance?”

She kneels before me as I’m seated at the foot of the bed. She begins removing my slippers from my feet, massaging each foot slowly.

“You are truly one of us now. No restrictions. No one would dare speak ill of you or question you any longer.” 

She looked so happy for me. I guess I should be happy to be free of my isolation period but this didn’t feel real yet. 

The double doors open slowly and Feyd walks in taking in the scene before him. Mia on her knees before me. She looks at the ground now back to her usual submissive self. 

“Mia you may go.” I say softly.

Feyd watches her every move as she rises up bowing before me leaving the room quietly. Only once she has shut the doors behind her does Feyd turn to face me. There's a glint in his eyes as he inspects me. 

“You’ve heard the news I presume.”

He smiles a black smile at me before taking Mia’s place kneeling where she once did. 

“Since our betrothal was announced my uncle made it his personal goal to tell me how disappointing you’d be. How you would never be anything special to anyone, especially me.”

I look into his dark blue eyes not sure if I should respond or not.

“Do you know what he did in trying to convince me you were worthless?”

I shake my head, not sure where he was going with this.

“It made me wonder why he fears you. Now I know.”

“Fears me?” I echo incredulously. Standing from the bed walking away from him. 

“You are the Heir of Caladan, and now you carry Giedi Primes heir within you. You are untouchable now more than ever.”

His hands find me and he holds my face making our eyes meet. Penetrating me with his words, and his gaze. There behind the blue of his irises were the unspoken words he wanted me to hear. 

‘He is the insignificant one now.’

Somehow I heard it loud and clear. The roles have been reversed.

Today was the first day of celebratory events. I was dressed elegantly with a thin silk veil layered over my head and face. Feyd Rautha requested my presence thus here I am at an unfamiliar part of the palace. Mia waited outside the door and motioned for me to enter. Feyd stood in black loincloth with slaves surrounding him applying paint to his perfect physique. I look around the large round room and notice three women lounging and watching him closely. These must be his darlings.

“Husband.” One word hangs in the air drawing everyone's attention. More importantly it captures his attention. 

He smiles at me and beckons me forward.

“There you are, wife. I missed your sweet scent.”

He claims my lips once I’m at arms length. A passionate kiss. I find myself getting wet at the taste of him, but I pull away. 

“Won’t you finally introduce me to your darlings?”

I gesture to the lounging women that resemble large felines. They perk up hearing me mention them.

“My darlings, come greet your Na Baroness.” 

He turns my back to him, always preferring to observe my interactions from over my shoulder. The elegant pale women make their way to us, languidly. They stop before me looking me up and over again. Feyd begins to remove the veil from me slowly, as if teasing them with the idea of seeing my bare face. Tendrils of my hair are visible as he lifts the veil slower still. A quick pale hand reaches up and seizes up a lock of hair.

My frame tenses at the unexpected contact. The veil falls aside before it’s scoped up by a silent slave for safe keeping. The concubines can’t look away from my face, my hair, my umber eyes. They seem enthralled by my very being. They look at my belly in reverence, small touches here and there and everywhere makes me close my eyes softly. I don’t protest as I feel them take turns stroking my scalp gently. Noses pushing into my ebony hair occasionally.

“They love your scent as much as I do.” His sandpaper voice caresses my neck as he speaks. Opening my eyes and turning to face him I stroke his cheek.

“My Lord na- Baron your blades.” 

A portly man presents Feyd with two blades, one white the other black. Feyd walks towards him inspecting them. He grabs the white blade testing the sharpness of the tip on his own tongue. When the blade fails that test he slices the throat of a slave nearby. It slices her neck seamlessly, so he moves on and stabs another slave with the dull tip. He critiques the tip alone, commenting on the balance of the blade over all. 

My knees nearly buckle at the scene before me. Three pairs of hands hold my weight momentarily. He killed them so calmly. There was zero hesitation and just to test the blade, surely there was a better way. He grabbed the black blade testing it with his own flesh yet again, but this time the tip was indeed sharp. He nodded his approval before returning his attention to me. 

“This blade is worthy of your blood. Will you do me the honor?”

I nod hesitantly as he approaches me. He squats before me lifting the hem of my gown slowly exposing my creamy thighs. He takes the blade and slowly runs it along my inner thigh leaving a shallow cut. He removes it and uses his tongue to gather the small trickle of blood. He slurps obscenely, taking his time to make sure he didn’t miss out on a single drop. 

I look towards the concubines and see them lounging once again watching us with keen interest and smiles. They were not the hissing harpies I imagined whenever Vladimir chose to throw them in my face. They genuinely seemed like loyal pets, serving their purpose. Simple creatures content with their role as concubines, not jealous of ‘the wife’ or covetting my position. Perhaps that was a change done when they were modified just for him. Life must be much more simple if you could simply pick and choose which traits your women possessed. Especially women who could be blood thirsty and literally ate human flesh. However genetic modification was a touchy subject across the Imperium. 

The black sun and the gory arena scene nauseated me and I was barely containing my vomit as I was seated next to the Baron. He didn’t speak a single word to me and I was content being silent. Mia must have noticed my discomfort because she brought me a sweet cool drink to soothe me. Across the arena I noted a group of women with headdresses on. Bene Gesserit women, they looked as out of place here as I did. Perhaps the Reverend Mother was among them, watching me. A chill down my spine and a cold sweat broke out at the thought. She was indeed watching me from across the arena. 

“Na Baroness, perhaps you should retire and take a break from the sun. You don’t look well.” Whispered Mia.

I nod my head suddenly feeling very unwell. Mia helps me from my seat and leads me away. 

“The doctor said this could happen, in these early days. He has medication that can help.” Mia reassured me gently. 

The Suk doctor visited my chamber quickly with the requested medication and just to be sure he checked me over thoroughly. The child was doing well and it was all as expected. 

“This tonic will kick in quickly, I have been made aware you are to rejoin the festivities immediately after you recover.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I would be missed so soon.”

“He walked into the arena to begin only to realize you weren’t present in your seat. He demanded it be put on hold.”

Embarrassment stung my cheeks. Oh no, I hope I did not offend him.

“Perhaps we should start heading that way now. I don’t want to cause more of a delay. As you said, the tincture is fast acting.” 

Once reseated and given another refreshment by the attentive Mia, the large arena doors open and my husband begins walking towards the center. As he reaches the center of the arena he kneels acknowledging the Baron. The seconds tick by as he stands and gestures for me to move closer. I stand and walk to the balcony offering him a better view of me even from the great distance between us.

He pulls the black blade out, the blade christened in my blood. He kisses the blade slowly with his pillowy lips before he holds it up to me. I smile at him lifting my veil to show him my face unobstructed. The crowd around us cheers with a deafening boom. Fireworks begin to go off and sadly they are black and colorless much like everything else here.

The crowd chants his name as he only has eyes for me. Like a cobra being charmed with a pungi I can’t look away from him. He was mesmerizing, he was god-like to his people and they adored him so. He finally resheathed the blade and turned towards the doors ready to begin his performance. I took my seat ignoring everything around me, my focus was entirely on Feyd Rautha. I wanted to see him in action against an actual opponent for the first time. 

Slaves large and small limped out towards the Na Baron and he stood still accessing his adversaries. Men were located around the arena wearing black garments from head to toe. They looked like something that would terrorize a child's worst nightmares. They moved in sync with Feyd watching his every step and the slaves around him. 

The battle begins with a charge of the largest slave towards Feyd Rautha. A sloppy attempt at rushing him and catching him off guard. Feyd immediately strikes a killing blow, slicing the man's head clean off with little to no effort. The next attack came from two at once and he dispelled them quickly. I noticed a large slave was merely watching Feyd assessing his moves but not attacking. He didn’t seem to limp when he walked; he looked to be in good health. Was this a part of the show perhaps? I notice Vladimir looking at Piter, understanding passed over Piters’ eyes then. 

“That slave has not been drugged Baron.” Piter spoke robotically. 

I looked back to the arena and watched Feyd closely. Surely he could handle a slave drugged or not.

“Do not ruin my nephew's day, Piter.”

Returning his eyes to Feyd Rautha as well, the Baron sat up straight.

“Congratulations my dear nephew.”

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980 @drunkennunicornn @aoi-targaryen @lovereadingfanfic @avidreader73

@nemodeus @landlockedmermaid77 @wo-ming-bai

[shakespearean-dream]

last of the big five yall!!!!

happy late fourth of july! remember to keep boycotting, speak out and listen to palestinians, the people of congo, native americans, queer/trans people and women currently being oppressed this independence day because america fucking sucks!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥

here are a couple good places to donate! please remember to do your own research and take care of each other, it’s getting scary out here.

ohhhh nimdok, where to start with you….

i have been dreading doing him because he pisses me off so bad but i actually had some decent fun with him :D. designing him and branching out farther away from his canon self was nice, but im not touching his backstory or personality really, that stays about the same for me in my head.

speaking of whichhh! like benny, i understand how the game makers had a short amount of time to fit an entire character arc of an old man undoing his deeply internalized racism/xenophobia/ableism in a singular short scenario, but unlike benny i actually somehow like his better?? nimdok had a lot more to get over (well not saying being a dickhead murderer isn’t a lot but 😭) and i enjoyed seeing him actually help out the people he would’ve previously turned in. it still feels a little hollow/unrealistic because again, he’s been like this his whole life, but considering how much AM takes him away from the group to (most likely) psychologically torture him for his actions he’s probably had a bit of a revelation.

doing his scenario was unfortunately funny at times because of the strange way we had to go about redeeming him with the golem guy😭giving him a smooch caught me off guard but ykw? i’ll take it for being able to kill mengele like immediately afterward. also speaking of whichhhh…

i would go into more detail about nimdok and mengeles relationship to give it some depth because god i love me some queers, but that is??? a real fucking guy???? a real life monster???? im less than comfortable picturing the fucker in my mind, much less giving him depth with a character who i also don’t like. like why ship ur essentially OC with a REAL LIFE N/AZI??? just another one of the reasons harlan elision creeps me out. (if that just pissed you off google search him s/a-ing 2 people, marrying a 19 year old when he was in his 40s and defending a child r/apist i really don’t feel like arguing with you. the guy was a horrible fucking person and he makes me sick, i just like this franchise.)

i cannot cough up anymore thoughts about this fella pls forgive me; these past couple days have been rough on my 3 brain cells. AM will for sure be next and after that fully rendered/decked out full bodies are in order!! so look out for that:]]]] i may also start posting some art fight things since i was just complaining about the lag a post or so ago☺️ jk ily artfight. team seafoam lets goo

ok i love u guys!!! if u have any requests for me drop a comment or an ask, and thank you so much for the continued support on my art❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ lots of links on this post but one more quick reminder to take a look at my commission page if you’d like!!! yolanda is still in the shop because they cannot figure out what’s wrong with her :(

have a good night friends 🫶

[hachibani]

i'd never seen a dog tear up

I don't think i ever wrote about it here but Bianca died on march 5th of 2021, she got diagnosed cancer in 2020 just before lockdown and major pandemic events and unfortunately every treatment I could get her in such times were not enough or too late and the moment her metastasis became unresponsive to pain medicine i decided to let her go

i know i didn't talk about her a lot here since twitter became my main site of activity for years but i remember when she had her accident back in 2016 i posted about her here too, i got a lot of support and commissions to pay for her treatment and thankfully i got support as well when i opened comms there to pay for her chemo and surgeries, and for that i will always be thankful. I don't know why but I kind of had thought if I ever post about Bianca again here in this little old blog it'd be about her beating her cancer, something happy

i really regret the fact i didn't post more about her when she was alive and once she died my depression got so bad i was either unavailable or tried to ignore the pain by focusing on personal work... to this day it still hurts to think of everything that i could or should have done even if there's no way i cannot go back in time

losing bianca after almost 13 years of being together and more than half of my life at the time with her was more traumatic than i'd like to admit, so i try to rationalize little things like not being able to replace her picture even after so long, the most i've done is sell her stroller and i still kind of regret that haha;; but neither of her brothers fit in and at some point it became too much of a reminder of her illness and last days it felt like i had to, but just that one

(even thinking she was part of my life for 1/2+ of it and that that fraction will become smaller as time passes feels so wrong it might make me cry again)

i didn't get to draw her as much as i wished either, i thought i could never capture her cuteness (i still struggle) but since i drew her again on her first death anniversary i thought "i could somewhat get her to look cute" and i try to draw her looking like this from then on https://twitter.com/hachibani/status/1500315555215126536

because of her i started drawing pets more often, my goal for this year was to draw her at least once a month but... i didn't draw her at all in february, i think i'd like to make up and draw her again this month if my free time allows it, i never thought i'd get to complete a comic (albeit short) about these feelings i've had, i have still, i don't know for how long i'll have

doing personal art like this has never been easy but i somehow feel less heavy now, maybe it's bc of the wall of text i'm leaving haha

[marimayscarlett]

I'm not sad that this era is ending. I'm sad that we won't see them for at least 2 years. Till we'll see the most. Schneider may post once or twice. Richard may or may not so anything solo, maybe someone will post one fan encounter.. but Ollie, Flake, Paul...we won't see them and it hurts because they'll come back older...and I just can't deal with the passage of time currently so it really sucks..

Hi 👋🏻

I understand what you're feeling. I think we can all (mostly?) agree on the fact that the band more than everyone deserves their break, after being actively on stage for several years, giving us so many great memories and concerts which were then formed into photos, videos and gifs for our ongoing entertainment.

I have the feeling that we as fans have grown accustomed to having them around a lot, being able to see them on stage and out and about, and somehow check in on them through their IG accounts or pictures fans took. Look, they're having fun, being sweet with each other, support each other, spend time with their families and friends, meet fans...look, they're fine. They're here, they're real.

This kind of "closeness" to a band is not the default state, and we have to understand that. I don't want to sound ancient, but during the time I became a fan, IG accounts of the band members didn't exist, we barely heard anything from them apart from the release of Rammstein in Amerika and later the festival tour, which was way less documented that the stadium tour now. You just had to have some sort of sense of basic trust that they're doing ok, and maybe we have to re-learn that now. At least now we have their IGs (eventhough I personally don't really check them and get my news from Tumblr 😅) and Till will be on tour.

Rammstein had such a successful stadium tour, played in front of so many people, gave their everything to make the shows perfect and entertaining, lived through the hot mess that was last summer - of course they will come back older, but that's fine. Kids want their dads at home during the summer, wives want to spend time with their husbands, old parents want to have their sons around. Aging is sometimes disheartening, but it's one of the most normal things on the planet.

All in all we can and should be thankful for the time we have with them. What are the odds that you exist during the same time period as Rammstein? And not during the 1960s cold war, the 1920s swing era or some other time period?

And fear not, just when you think it's been a while since the last life sign, the next Rewe rave might just be around the corner...🕺🏻

[jikookuntold]

You don't find anything sus about Daeun? The rumor came out in 2021 end. it began from a football match where they both attended on same day. Then some random evidence was pointed out by netizens. And I ignored all of that as there was many rumors coming out during their break time. But she living in same nine one complex as Jimin and having the same interiors, vessels and even mat was so sus. Also someone pointed out she once posted a pic in Porchse and Jimin also drive a Porsche 👀 idk how a Korean actress who don't have any big projects lives in one of expensive apartment complex and drive an expensive car. And somehow both of the said expensive things are owned by Jimin too 👀 what do you think ? 🤔

Look, I'm interested in dating rumors, even for the people I don't stan, but this case you are asking about, has never been my cup of tea, not because I'm a Jikooker, but because the so called evidence is so weak and made up by a certain group. I like the real rumors with actual proof, spread by unbiased sources, something like Taennie had. But regardless of the disinterest, I'm gonna reply this.

It started in summer 2022 at the heat of the Taennie rumor, and I exactly know which group of people made it out of thin air, which beneficiary groups fueled it, and how dumb people took it seriously, because apparently attending a national game with another 80k people can be a dating proof. Since it clearly isn't, they made their threads longer by puting totally diffent accessories next to each other as their couple items, but still the whole thing was so funny and ridiculous even the media made fun of it.

From there, it was nothing more than a joke or a targeted campaign against Jimin, and I totally stopped following it. But I heard that Daeun herself denied it 3 times and stated that she has never met Jimin, and in fact Yoongi is the only BTS member he has met in person. But as you may know, most people didn't let go of it for various reasons; It made Taekookers feel less terrible about Tae dating Jennie, Jimin antis wanted a scandal for him, and Jikook antis needed something to grip.

Now after almost two years we are still in this stupidity. You call them a thing because this girl as an unknown actress can afford to live in 91 and drives a porsche? We are not sure where she lives, that place she takes pictures and videos might belong to her or someone she know, but don't you think that will explain the whole case of similar furniture? Because most houses in Seoul are being sold with a standard set of furniture and you can even check it in their website.

I heard that she has photos in 91 posted in 2019 and we know Jimin bought his apartment in 2021, then how Daeun living in 91 has anything to do with Jimin? That's a huge complex with a big population. Jimin is not the only resident. Plus, people mentioned that her unit in 91 can't be the same as Jimin's because the floor plans are mirrored.

So, by far she has more proof of dating Namjoon or Yoongi because of the same complex (not mirrored floor plan), similar furniture and meeting in person. If she can afford driving a porsche or living in a luxury apartment despite not being a well-paid actress maybe she has a super rich supporter, and as far as I know Jimin is not the only rich guy in SK.

[leahsfavefics]

All I Want for Christmas is Joon (Teaser)

Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon

Banner: the incredible @kithtaehyung

Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au

Estimated WC: 20k - this teaser is 792 words!

Posting Date: Dec 21st

Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.

Part of the Jingle All the Way collab!

BEFORE:

Your fingers itched over your computer mouse, hesitating on the ‘click’ you so ardently wanted to make. Anxiety held you back.

“Just do it,” Melissa hollered from your kitchen. You smiled, impressed at how she sensed your hesitation somehow. Outside of your family, she’s one of only two people that could ever read you that well. Though you guess that now she’s the only person that can, since the other is your ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in over a year.

You took her encouragement with a grain of salt. She was always egging on whatever hair brained idea you had, ever since elementary school. This time, though, maybe she was right.

“It’s expensive. And I’d be all by myself. I’ve never traveled all by myself,” you whined in response.

“Bitch, it’s literally cheaper than it’s ever going to be,” she shot back, strolling into the living room and leaning against the couch where you sat. You couldn’t argue. The Travel Tuesday flight deals this year were insane. You’ve never seen a round trip flight to Europe be less than $500, and somehow the itinerary you’ve secured rang in at $386.00 round trip, taxes and fees included. It was probably a bulk fair with a million restrictions and you’d be fucked if you wanted to change it, but the flight left in 3 weeks. If you booked this, you were going no matter what.

“And traveling by yourself is not bad,” Melissa continued. “Obviously I’d rather be on a girls’ trip with you or on a trip with Taehyung, but it’s also really nice to not have to worry about anyone but yourself. Sure, there’s no one to take cute pictures of you unless you want to ask a stranger, but you can do whatever you want without consulting with anyone or taking their feelings into account. Craving sushi? Go get sushi! Want a nap? Go take a nap! Want to check out an obscure museum no one would be interested in but you? Do it! You only have yourself to worry about.”

You sighed. “You’re right, I know you’re right. But you’re so much more adventurous than I am.” Mel and her husband, Taehyung, were always going off and doing the wildest of things. Going on amazing trips around the world, skydiving, scuba diving, the list goes on. Whether they were a match made in heaven or hell, you weren’t sure- they rarely said no to each other’s schemes. They were happy though, and beyond in love, and that’s all you could ever want for your best friend.

“That’s not true.” Melissa said. “You’re adventurous, you’re just also nervous. Ever since…. You know what. You’ve been complaining that you want to get better at doing things on your own. This is your chance. And you’ve wanted to go to Norway for ages. You can’t achieve your dreams if you’re afraid to pull the trigger when the opportunity presents itself.” You winced, but it was the truth. The hard truth, but the truth nonetheless. And you trusted Melissa to give it to you straight when you needed it. Since the breakup with Namjoon over a year ago, you’d been wallowing. The two of you did everything together, attached at the hip since you met in your grad school apartment building the weekend you both moved in. You’d made it all through college, moving in together the second year of school into a nice apartment off campus that you still occupied. The study abroad semester Namjoon spent in Paris had been tough, especially because you’d only had enough time and money for one brief visit, but it wasn’t until college was over that things fell apart. Art History is a tough field to get a job in. You were both insanely lucky to land jobs fresh out of college. Grades and letters of recommendation helped, but still. It was unfortunate that they were across the country. You’d barely made it through one bout of long distance. You thought it better to end things rather than face that again, and with no end date in sight. 

“You’re right. I know how to travel. Namjoon and I took a few trips together. And you and I have gone on trips together. I need to learn how to be comfortable doing things on my own. I’m 25 years old. I can’t wait around forever.” You nodded as you spoke, convincing yourself. Taking a shaking breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and made that final click. 

Melissa squealed in excitement and pulled you in for a constricting hug that pulled a laugh from you despite your nerves about your newly booked solo adventure. “I’m so proud of you! And excited! You’re going to fucking Norway!!”

[pastelalleycat]

This line in the WHRP news page has been haunting me to no end and I can't not bring it up anymore.

Guys.... I think Barnaby cares for Julie..........

(tons of theorizing under the cut)

We don't know much about Julie's inner psyche compared to some of the other characters, but we do know that she's outwardly always happy, always cheerful, always eager for a game or a smile. Being so fun-loving and not being able to crack a joke sounds like something that could cause Julie distress. She looks up to Barnaby and wants to be as funny as he is, but she's so engulfed in trying to surround herself in happy things, in the role she plays alongside Frank, that she can't admit that there's a problem, that there's something wrong in her life.

More about Barnaby's perspective is found in the Homewarming record- he's surprisingly perceptive, and there's an introspective, analytical part of his personality where he's able to take in people's emotions and level them against a logical standard. He may be brusque, blunt, teasing, but that's his way of caring. He knows, logically, that Julie can't make others laugh to save her life. He knows, logically, that Frank may not be the best match for her. And he knows, logically, that he wants to help Julie learn how to tell jokes- to help her.

Plus, jokes are literal currency- at least in Howdy's bodega. My theory is that Julie uses Eddie's post office for anything she may need instead by getting it sent in; in the "listen" audios, she recieves quite a few packages, and we never see her inside Howdy's store or interacting with him directly (as far as I remember). In a world that literally favors the funny, being unfunny is an actual disadvantage.

Whether it's puppy love or a friendly appreciation, Barnaby clearly likes Julie. And though he pisses her off, Julie enjoys his company too.

That brings us to Julie's winter hibernation, and the sentence used here in this news post. Julie's very connected to flowers, so the image of a flower needing strong roots to bloom in the spring is most likely related to her somehow. The Bug-a-Bye record can be interpreted as Frank mourning Julie's absence during winter, so we'd expect him to be the one to tuck her in, as it were, for her big sleep, so why is Barnaby mentioned?

Well, when Eddie dissociates during the Homewarming party, it's when he's forgone his role as the mailman and let others do his deliveries for him. He relaxes, and in that moment he doesn't have any ties to the Neighborhood- unrooting, so to speak, becoming aware that there's more to the soil than his roots could previously comprehend.

Sleep is similar to disocciation, but the subconscious mind is far more aware of the world during dissociation, whereas during sleep dreams can be difficult to discern from reality if you aren't lucid. Hibernation is a deep version of sleep, body and mind slowing down as much as it can to preserve function.

The health and life cycle of flowers in the Neighborhood are connected to Julie. If she entered hibernation and something happened to the flowers while she was asleep, she'd either have no way of knowing, or be too weak to do anything about it. Yet, if the roots are strong, a plant will live. It's much the same with a puppet.

Barnaby doesn't know too much about flowers, but he knows about dirt. About soil. About perception. And because he's a dog by nature, he damn well knows how to dig. In my head, I can't imagine he would feel comfortable if any of his neighbors were in danger, much less one who can't speak for herself.

The fact that Barnaby taught Wally the "Beautiful Dreamer" song, a song sung to a possibly dead lover- and knowing that Julie is about to enter / has entered a deep sleep at the end of the latest update- strikes me as eerie. I may be off the mark here, since Wally is pictured with dreamy imagery in the "Remderem" commercial as well, but I can't ignore it.

So uh, yeah, Julaby brOTP for life. Yeah.

[doberbutts]

hey so feel free to delete this if its inappropriate/not the right time to share it

i’m a trans woman and (obviously) i can’t get pregnant, but i did get sexually assaulted by some guys trying to show was one of them. and also having an m marker has caused issues with trying to access resources and shit.

idk this isnt the same thing and all but my point is that im standing with u as some random trans woman with vaguely parallel experiences and im sorry to hear its somehow even worse & more likely for some of yall.

I wanr to preface this with a disclaimer, to get things out of the way first.

I am not trying to say that trans women do not experience devastating sexual assaults. They do. Quite often. Though to me, even once is too often. Rape and sexual assault are terrible, awful things. It's horrible that anyone has been made to go through this.

Nor am I trying to say that your M marker doesn't get in the way of things. When it comes to the domestic violence you experience, or the homelessness rates, or a determination of what prison you go to (esp since y'all are more likely to be wrongfully accused and arrested), or the various aspects of your own reproducive healthcare, your agab and gender marker is absolutely used as a weapon against you.

The question was asked for a unique example. Unfortunately, the conversation around reproductive rights is much different for me than it is for you. But it's also much different for me than for cis women and cis men as well. Those without a functional uterus cannot get pregnant. Those who cannot get pregnant are not forcibly married off to be raped until pregnant as a means of detransition and correction. This misogyny we share with cis women.

However an added aspect of that is that if this happens after we've changed our legal documents, an additional layer of transphobia occurs when insurances and doctors see our M or X markers and deny us care out of hand. Now we are stuck with a pregnancy we don't want and constant reminder of what happened to us, or a huge medical bill with devastating financial consequences.

And that's just for those who got out safety- for those who rely on shelters, again the choice becomes detransition for safety at a woman's shelter, or struggle in silence as a man. That, we share with you, though for different reasons.

A unique interection of transphobia and misogyny specifically experienced by trans men was asked for. That is what I provided. Much like how in Crenshaw's essays one could not provide a complete understanding of "because woman" or "because black" because neither would show the full picture of "because black woman", it is not possible to describe this fully as "because trans " or "because man" because the complete "because trans man" must be provided.

I am of the opinion that there is very little "unique" about oppression- mostly that the various points of intersection change its face. In other words, I think trans men share a lot with trans women, and I don't think that's a bad thing. I also think that doesn't disclude something from earning its own name or having its own place to be talked about.

I have hesitated to post those statistics because they can so easily be twisted to say "trans women don't experience these things" or "trans men have it worse". But, a look at the graphs say the first isn't true, it just happens at a statistically less rate. The second, well, I personally don't think it's useful to quantify who has it worse. I once was in that mindset, apologizing to my mentor (an older trans woman) for complaining about my problems because obviously she had it so much worse.

She told me she doesn't like to think about it like that. For her, she would rather be raped than killed. For me, I would rather be killed than raped. Who has it "worse" depends entirely on perspective. Murder and rape are both terrible crimes to be a victim of. Rather than weighing this violence in a scale, more effort should be put into stopping it from happening in the first place. I think she was very wise. I'm lucky to have known her.

I'm sorry that happened to you. I would like to reach across the table and take your hand, to walk forward into the future together. I think we are stronger when united in this world that hates us. You are my sister. We may fight like siblings, but you're still family.

[mbat]

hey guys, remember to stay skeptical of random messages on discord, or any social media tbh.

i was already suspicious when i got a random dm from someone i barely knew who i havent talked to since 2021 saying 'i need to talk about something serious' like... ??

but also the shit they were saying was dumb as fuck. first of all, over 300$ on nitro?? not to mention the ultra specific number of 362, like, thats just weird to me. also 'mess with your ip and stuff' how. how though.

also the weird implication that somehow my friends or family could also have hacked this person. my family who barely use discord/know how to use discord, and my toootally real irl friends that i have that got on my computer, right....

but also like i say in the screenshots, they were avoiding all of my questions asking for clarification, including me rightfully asking how this person would even be thinking of me after 3 years of not talking, not to mention we werent even friends, we just sent a few dms to eachother... but most of all how theyd remember me based on a pfp i drew after i stopped talking to them, or how someone would have a similar pfp to the one i drew myself of my own OC. yeah, sure buddy.

and most of all how dumb it is to be like 'oh noo, the person who i reported you to wont listen to me, please can you, the person whos account is at stake for actions you may or may not have taken, please go beg for your account for me?' like... that doesnt make sense. on no level does that make sense.

i took the picture they sent me, erased specific details like their username and my name and pfp, and reverse image searched it

and every single result was how its a scam.

and like i said, naming yourself that on discord, also that pfp?? thats cop shit. thats some cop shit. fuck no.

they prey on your fear of losing your account. the realistic idea that many people get hacked all the time from suspicious links, so that you feel bad for this person and are more likely to listen to them. they obviously go through peoples friends lists or dm lists so that its someone they might know, or previously knew, so that youre less likely to be like 'hey, fuck off.'

and they send a screenshot that is actually fairly convincing at first but its also like... bruh. cause im pretty sure ive reported some accounts in recent months and never got that image, though i didnt report them on the discord website because discord has a built in report button in app. and honestly whos gonna bother going to the website unless its like, extremely serious, like the time someone sent me images of fucking dead bodies on discord. thats what you go directly to the website for.

anyway, other people online have said that the person they attempt to send you to is the real hacker trying to steal your shit, if that wasnt already obvious by this persons insistence... so yeah. dont fall for scammers bullshit, guys.

if youre wondering why im even bothering posting this and saying so much shit, im just hoping if other people reverse search the image people send them that they get informational posts like this, cause its important people dont fall for this garbage

[ingravinoveritas]

Have you seen AL's latest insta story? sure, it would even be cute... if she didn't set a trend of subtly (not so subtly) commenting on his looks.

also idk if you hadn't seen this one from November 16th:

(yes it looks like his handwriting) random thoughts:

"I think he likes me" tee-hee? Much need for validation?

gurl, going without a phone for a week? seriously? how? why?

... How did you even post, if you're phoneless? or did you wait to have one, to stage this pic?

maybe it's me, but sharing such an intimate note seems *just a bit* in bad taste.

Am I being too petty? Maybe. Whatever.

(Finally getting around to answering more Asks, so thank you all for being so patient!) @artificial-indulgence No, I don't think you are being petty at all. I'm really very tired of Anna's posts as of late, and all of the above is certainly no exception.

I think it's worth noting that she posted that picture with Bernard (and all of the pictures from her Insta story) in a separate post, because apparently she didn't get enough attention, and the picture of Michael and David was dead last in the post. Which seems fitting, given that the caption on the post was a "A weekend of vanity and insanity" and the first few pictures were of her, suggesting that she was using the picture of Michael and David to get more traction for her own pictures.

This ties into your comment, @longingtolinger-blog, because she did indeed post that story calling herself a "vain twat" just earlier in the same day as the story with the pic of Michael and David:

And I had the same thought, that it seemed as if she was trying to be self-deprecating, but it just...didn't land? It came across as awkward, mostly because vanity/being vain isn't really something to brag about. Do we all have moments of being vain? Of course. But Anna seems to be making it part of her personality, and it's just...not cute. Also, in the same way as Michael calling David his lover, you generally don't refer to yourself as a "vain twat" if you don't want people to think that you're a vain twat.

That said, I did see AL's Insta story from the 16th, and nearly three weeks later, it still doesn't make sense. As you said, how did she post this without a phone? Or, as we could infer, does this mean she got that note sometime earlier in the week, and waited at least several days just to stage this picture? Also, with two little kids around, how does it make sense for her to not even have a backup phone? We could certainly assume that she did, but the story above would suggest otherwise, since Michael had to email her (which is, for the record, about the least romantic correspondence imaginable). Let's also remember that on the 16th, Michael was still in the middle of being virulently attacked on Twitter after the events of October 30th, and Anna had plenty of opportunities to defend him. To say something like, "Michael's a great guy, he does a lot of charity work, he doesn't deserve to be attacked like this." Instead, it was all about her and what she gets from him. In fact, the week prior to the 16th, she posted another Insta story of flowers that he supposedly sent her, with that song "My Love Mine All Mine" in the story, thereby doubling down on bragging about him getting her things while saying nothing about him as an actual person.

Going back to the first story above, we know that Michael has previously been affectionately compared to the Tennants' dog Bernard (and David to their other dog, Myrtle). But as you said, given AL's history of making snarky comments about Michael's appearance, it feels a lot less affectionate and a lot more unkind coming from her. What surprised me about her Insta story the most, however, was how not surprising it was, as that story is actually not the first time Anna has "joked" about leaving Michael. And given that that seems to be an enjoyed pastime of hers, it almost seems like they would both be happier and better off if she actually did leave him.

It somehow becomes worse when we see this exchange, which took place on Twitter yesterday:

(Maybe she should get a refund, since she seems pretty unsatisfied with what she's got...)

Again, I would have no problem saying that this was just teasing or ribbing or whatever if it weren't for literally everything else in this post, plus what I've also talked about on my blog previously. But complaining about Michael like this publicly makes her come across as so damn rude and ungrateful. Contrast this with David "complaining" about Michael and it only makes the difference even more stark: That with David, there's a mutual respect and affection and reciprocation, which we do not at all ever see Michael do with her. And I can't help but think that if their relationship is as great as she would like everyone to believe, she wouldn't be on Twitter going back and forth with fans just to get that validation, as you mentioned.

Those are pretty much my thoughts on AL's posts/stories from the last month. It's interesting to me that more people seem to be noticing the weirdness of all this, and I appreciate both of you writing in. And as always, glad to hear from my followers about what you all think...