#waiting to be added to the main doc

[theicarusconstellation]

fucking screaming over atib jegulus someone is pissing in someone else’s mouth right now in a sacred temple

[arolesbianism]

Y'know I should rly do a comb through of the wiki and correct any mistakes in the logs cause even if I'm too lazy to add all the ones not there it would make double checking the ones that are on there much easier

[charcubed]

I saw Challengers earlier today and I decided to start a running doc of some of my feral thoughts in an effort to not forget what's currently marinating in my brain after my first watch

I want this movie to get a long theatrical release/run because it deserves it, but that's unfortunate because I also NEED to have it accessible to me in my home ASAP so I can pull on all its threads and take screencaps. Alas.

EXTENSIVE SPOILERS BELOW

might add to this later as I remember things, idk

-The parallel of Art spitting his gum in Tashi’s hand and in Patrick’s hand… My jaw dropped soooo early on. Anyway they obviously both act as Art’s “coach” at different times in his life in different ways. (The jerking off teaching?? Scream???) Art craves their guidance and approval as a form of love (which is also directly responsible for his confidence issues) and initially likes to follow their leads in every situation

-The parallel of Tashi making out with both Art and Patrick up against cars… delicious

-Patrick’s car is his “bed” and it’s where he and Tashi fuck. Nice

-Wait now I’m sad because… lowkey Patrick is homeless because Art and Tashi are his home…………….

-The storm = Patrick and Tashi having sex = the reason why Art’s half of the giant poster/ad on the side of the building falls down so only Tashi’s side is left up. Iconic, loooove a good visual metaphor, especially shown nonlinearly

-The parallel of the forehead kisses??? Art and Patrick on the court at the start when they won the doubles, and Art and Tashi in the sad almost-sex scene towards the end??? I will throw up

-Disclaimer and reminder I’ve only seen this movie once and might reform any of these thoughts later BUT…

One of Art’s main things is, as he tells Patrick towards the start, not wanting to be “left out.” He loves and he wants both Patrick and Tashi (but he doesn’t fully want to acknowledge the extent of his want for Patrick for years, and that repression is part of his problems…). He gets “lit up” about the thought of them together not because he’s jealous of one of them but because he’s jealous of BOTH of them; he wants to know it all, he wants to be in the room, he wants to be with them both, he despairs at the thought of losing either of them (but, at the start, especially at the thought of losing or being of lesser importance to Patrick. Obviously he’s a fucking idiot as evidenced by how Patrick goes to see him FIRST at Stanford. Ugh). We see all of this at the start when Art wants to know if Tashi and Patrick fucked. We see this in Atlanta when he witnesses Tashi cheating on him with Patrick but doesn’t directly confront either of them about it; he only skates the edge of confronting it with Patrick in the sauna while also lashing out at him. Patrick tells Art at Stanford “it’s nice to see you so lit up about something, even if it’s my girlfriend” during the homoerotic churros scene because Patrick’s clocked all of this about Art, too. He clocks it further in Atlanta when he shows up to Art’s practice with Tashi and his mere presence makes Art hit the ball harder. It obviously all comes full circle; the cocktail of emotions that Patrick and Tashi being together gives Art coalesces again for him on the court in the Challengers match: Tashi’s threatened to leave him if he loses… and she’s maybe got one foot out the door with Patrick of all people, who Art already “lost” in the past as the love he’s been mourning for 13 years. But what’s important is that THIS time, unlike Atlanta, Art learns about Tashi cheating on him with Patrick not by accident but rather because Patrick actually tells him. Patrick understands the significance of how this will get Art lit up again and make him play the way he needs to for all of their sakes, and it’s fucked up, but… what this means is Patrick doesn’t leave Art out. He TELLS Art – and he tells him in a way only they understand while they’re on the court together again. Of course Art goes through several stages of emotions in response to that fucked up information… but ultimately that moment of honesty and realization between the boys is what Art needed and puts where all 3 of them stand into sharp relief, shedding a light on who they’ve all always been and what their individual needs are.

Art’s always wanted to play tennis, but that desire is framed around his relationships. Tennis is only something he truly enjoys or that fully makes him happy when he’s experiencing it through his connections to other people: he wants to impress, earn the approval of, or celebrate with those he loves who are watching (like his grandmother or Tashi) – which is partially why he wants Tashi to be his coach in the first place. And of course, tennis all began as something Art found joy in because he was always doing it with Patrick. It’s clear Patrick feels the same. At the start, neither of them cared much about winning for the sake of winning unless it was doubles because they competed as a team and that was “really fun” for them. With the singles competition, they kind of cared less about the wins at the start; Art assumed Patrick would win and didn’t care back then, and then Patrick was willing to let Art win so he could impress his family, and they were both fine with all of those sentiments. Tennis was first and foremost something they did with and for each other. As Patrick later tells Art in the sauna, “I miss playing with you” – and, of course, at that point he’s definitely not only talking about tennis. But in that final match, after so many years, Patrick and Art finally understand each other completely again. It’s like they’re in love (because they are and always have been), they go somewhere really beautiful together… etc. They finally reconnect on the court and feel that thrill as they become synchronized again, which is what tennis was always about for them.

And Tashi, who’s irrevocably connected to them both and whose primary love is and always has been the sport itself, gets what SHE’S always wanted: to “watch some good fucking tennis.” It’s why she pitted the boys against each other vying for her number at the start. Though she needs/wants both boys in different ways on an individual level, she doesn’t particularly need or want anyone to ~be in love with her~; she wants the men who are in love with her to entertain her and challenge her and give her a show. So that’s what she tries to accomplish again in the end by telling Art she’d leave him if he lost the Challengers match… but the missing piece in her making that threat – the element that would get Art truly fired up – was that she’d potentially leave Art for Patrick. That final piece of info, when Art finds out about the cheating, is what reconnects them in all of the above ways. Because it’s about all 3 of them and their triangular codependency. They’ve all been broken for 13 years because they all need each other and tennis to be fully functional. Split any of it apart and they just don’t work.

-Literally this is a film where from the moment of the injury they’re all constantly mourning. They all lose their greatest loves that day… Tashi essentially loses tennis, Art loses Patrick, and Patrick loses the two of them. Everything after that is just them being affected by how they’re all mired in various grief and feeling incomplete… until that synchronization at the match when they finally become whole again. Going from that bed scene that was breaking my heart to the final match was HEALING. Things are still fucked up and in progress, but they’re fucked up in a way they all understand, which gives them a path forward. This movie has a fiercely happy ending in that regard… and what I’m saying is that… after the match, once they communicate further, and much later down the line… Art and Patrick should go back to playing doubles and Tashi should coach them as as doubles team. God they’d eventually all be so happy I wanna CRY just thinking about them doing that. It would take them awhile to get there — because yeah, Tashi is living vicariously through Art’s career as an individual player and maybe if Art retired she’d then want to live through PATRICK’S career for awhile — but I think if they worked out their relationship then their tennis could come to reflect the needs of that relationship too, and doubles can still be “good fucking tennis” in its own satisfying right, y’know? I think they could get there and it would be a beautiful collective restart.

-I gotta say, I can't imagine Tashi pregnant. Wild to me. Sorry to their daughter. Oooo also... I think Patrick would be great with kids... when he gets to meet Lily and become "Uncle Patrick" they're gonna hit it off so fast. Help me

-*holds up Tashi watching them kiss after she orchestrated it* *holds up the Challengers match* It’s the same picture. Except the kisses were kisses whereas the match was actual sex. The moaning and grunting… I’m insane. Also Tashi’s “COME ON!!!!” is arguably the sole orgasm/climax we witness in the whole movie perhaps? Though you could argue the hug is too. In this essay I will, etc.

-Art begging for Tashi’s love/validation saying “Tell me it doesn’t matter if I win tomorrow” vs Art telling Patrick in the sauna “this is a game about winning the points that matter” / Patrick saying “I don’t matter?” AAAA oh my fucking Goddddddd I’m gonna die

-Thank you Luca Guadignino for your dedication to having Art and Patrick hold phallic drinks and food in each others’ presence. Specific shout out to Patrick at the beach party holding the beer bottle on his crotch

-Patrick = comfortable with who he is and secure in his bisexuality; honest and open Art = repressing his queerness and his overall desires Tashi = hiding who she is aka her dissatisfactions with life and the lengths she’ll go to because tennis is her true greatest love and always has been

COMPRESS, REPRESS... REPRESS, COMPRESS... AND THEN JUST SURRENDER, ONE TWO THREEEEE

-I need to rewatch to catch the dialogue because it was difficult for me to hear it over the music, but I think in the 3am Atlanta scene Tashi tells Patrick that Art’s grandmother had a stroke. IF that’s what she said (and if there’s no reason to believe it’s a lie Art told; like I said, I need to rewatch)… my immediate impression was that it’s a nod to Patrick being the voice of accuracy and prediction in this movie. Towards the beginning he tells Art (jokingly) that he hopes Art’s grandmother dies of a stroke, and that’s seemingly what literally comes to pass. He repeatedly clocks both Tashi and Art’s behaviors, describing them brashly to their faces (and to us as the audience), and he was right about his predictions. He’s the one who’s not repressed or unaware of who he is out of the 3 of them: when Tashi first asks if there’s something between him and Art, he looks away because he knows the answer is yes; he’s openly bi on dating apps; he tells Tashi he won’t be her lapdog unlike Art which we see later ends up becoming literal; he clocks how Tashi is hiding some of her true motivations when she seeks him out in the storm; and even from afar he predicts Art’s mindset about wanting to retire. For the most part, what Patrick does / says either seems to be or becomes truth. Hmmm, wait, as I’m typing this… something to look out for: the “I TOLD YA” shirt. Working theory: Tashi briefly wears it, she’s the voice of accuracy; then it blatantly switches over to Patrick and he wears it throughout the film and [waves to all of the above]

-Head in my hands thinking of how the word “love” is used in these tennis matches. Also something I need to make detailed note of when I rewatch

-Patrick grabbing Art’s thigh when they first watched Tashi play… oh my GOD

-Patrick pulling Art’s stool close and Art just smoothly sitting on it with no reaction… the way they kept looking at each others' lips... oh my G O D

-I just remembered Tashi referred to the boys being known as as “fire and ice.” What the fuck even.

-Tashi going to Patrick asking him to lose the match for Art… she’s literally like, "do this because I love tennis and if I lose Art then I lose the way I live tennis through him. Do this because if he loses this match he'll lose himself." And she's really like, "Do this because I know you’re in love with both of us." And Patrick is like, "A) fuck you because you know I’ll say yes precisely because I'm in love with both of you so how dare you ask this of me, and B) you’re kidding yourself if you think you don’t miss the challenge I give YOU simply by being myself because I don’t take your shit." Something something they're peers, you know

-Tbh for 13 years when Patrick gets his rare opportunities he’s @ both Art and Tashi like “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” And the thing is that he’s RIGHT. He’s right! Art in particular doesn't want to admit it because he's trying to convince himself he outgrew being bisexual / outgrew Patrick but it's obviously bullshit

-Realizing some of the sounds in the soundtrack intentionally emulate the sounds of tennis balls and rackets???? MADNESS

[chanandlersstuff]

Little Miss Director and Starboy.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Word count: 8.457

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap and a slow burn.

Author’s note: It’s the first time I write something about Hayden so I hope you like it. I have nothing against his private life nor his love ones, this is just for fun. With that been said, I had this idea in my head for a long time and it will have two more parts.

gif credits @haydenchristensengifs

Next Part →

May 2019, first meetings.

When he was offered the role of Anakin again for Obi-Wan’s series, he jumped in without thinking twice and that’s how he met her. He saw her face for the first time on a tiny screen on his phone. The first few things he noticed about her were that she used glasses, her voice was sweet, that she smiled pretty much all the time and that she was young, several years younger than him.

She was very polite and enthusiastic, telling him all about the ideas for the series and explaining everything about the project. Maybe revealing a few things she shouldn’t but he didn’t care. She kept it professional but light, which he thanked because acting formally in the comfort of his house while wearing joggers and slippers was a no can do.

A few weeks after that he hopped in a plane and flew all the way to the studios, where she worked, to meet with her and talk about the project. He was directed to her office, where she was supposed to be expecting him but she wasn’t. “I’m sorry Mr. Christensen, but she will arrive in a few minutes.” The boy behind the desk said with a polite smile. “Please follow me.” He got up and walked towards an office at the end of the hallway. “You can wait for her in her office.” He opened the door. “Feel free to get comfortable.” The boy smiled. “Would you like something to drink?”

Hayden looked around the room, it was big; but not too big, painted white with big windows that let all the light enter and a little sofa with a desk in the middle. “No, thank you.” But the main thing he noticed was the lack of personal things in it. No photos on the desk, instead, little drawings stuck to the computer and an old video camera from the ‘90s on one of the shelves, which he found odd. 

He stood watching the window and how the sun illuminated everything around. A couple of minutes passed by when he heard voices outside the office. “Hi, Charlie, how are you?” The same sweet voice reached his ears. Some muffled words and the sound of boots against the floor. "What? He's in there?” She whispered-shouted. “He's early!” It was true, Hayden was early. A trait he picked up from his father. "I know!" The boy at the reception whispered-shouted too. "He’s cute.” Hayden smiled a little at the words. “Charlie! Unprofessional.” It wasn’t as if he was eavesdropping, they just happened to be speaking not so quietly. “I’m not ready.”  He heard her say. “Yes, you are.” The boy encouraged her. More muffled sounds reached his ear. “Fake it, till you make it.” He smiled at the phrase and moments later the door was opened.

He turned around and she was there with a nervous smile on her lips, not like the ones he saw on Facetime. “Hi.” She said, blushing a little.

The brunette walked closer to greet her properly. “Hello.”

“Wow, you are tall.” She said rapidly under her breath, but he heard it, making him laugh.

“I got that a lot.” He extended his hand and she shook it. To the list of things he noticed about her, he added that her hands were cold, despite the warm weather outside, and full of small classy silver rings. She apologised about it but he was focused on looking at her. She was small, a little smaller than average, barely reaching his chin. Dressed in black Doc Martens, light colour jeans, a fitted black t-shirt and a red leather coat. Long straight hair and no glasses on. 

She hung her bag and coat and smiled at him, a more natural one. “Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee? Orange Juice?”

“A tea would be nice, thank you.” She nodded and ordered Charlie, the boy behind the desk at the front, a tea and a coffee.

“Shall we?” She gestured to the sofa for them to sit down.

He tilted his head to the side. “By all means, it’s your office.” He let her walk in front of him, as the gentleman he was taught to be.

She looked around with a tiny smile on her lips. “Yeah, I still don’t believe it.” 

“You have a beautiful view.” He added.

“Yeah, doesn't it?” She asked happily and looked around. “First of all," he was the object of her gaze again. "thank you for coming all the way here just to chat about this.” 

“Not at all, it’s a pleasure. And far easier than talking on the phone.” He sat more comfortably.

She laughed and nodded. “I like this kind of human contact, I feel like there’s nothing left to guess, or misunderstood, and I also believe it is more personal.” He agreed, noticing she moved her leg nervously. Another thing to add to his list about her. “I will try to not occupy much of your time and don’t bore you.” She joked.

But he shook his head “No, nothing of that.” trying to reassure her. 

A knock on the door interrupted him. “Sorry.” She got up and opened the door. Charlie entered with the two cups and left them on the desk. “Thank you very much, Charlie.” The boy smiled and walked away. “Sugar? Sweetener?” She offered him.

“Sugar, it's fine.” She passed him the little packets while she poured a little one of sweeteners into her cup. The pleased smile on her lips, when she took the first sip, would always be tattooed on his mind.

Hayden asked the normal things about the project and she told him everything she could about it. Slowly, bit by bit, he saw how she was more nervous-free and how excited she was for all the things she was telling him about. “But it’s still in diapers, we are still figuring things out. I’m still figuring things out.” She played with her hands. “The writers started putting everything on paper and I’m working with the executive producers about the cast.” She ended with a smile.

“It’s your first big project?” He asked, taking a sip of his tea. She laughed a little, moving her head side to side, it wasn’t a yes but neither a no. “How old are you?” That was a question he had in mind for a while and hoped it didn't sound rude.

“Twenty-seven.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “I know, too young and very big, immense, shoes to fill.” She said with a bored tone like she got that too much. 

Hayden shook his head. “I was 19 when I took the role of Anakin and felt the same way. Everything is going to be fine.” She looked at him a little unsure. “If they choose you to be here, it’s because you are the best. Don’t let them intimidate you, otherwise they will eat you alive.”

She smiled at him, big and brightly. “Thank you, Hayden, truly.” Her eyes accompanied the smile, kind and truthful.

All of a sudden, he turned shy by being under her gaze- What? Shy? Come on man. -so he shrugged and changed the subject. Trying for his life to not blush at how sincere and kind her eyes looked at him moments prior.

October 2019, surprise surprise.

By the second time they met in person, they had been talking a couple more times by the phone, she asked a few things about what he felt about Anakin, what were his thoughts about him and things like that.

Hayden was walking towards her office, for some reason he wanted to see her before going to meet with the writers, executives and a few of the characters for the first reading of the script, which was going to take a few days, to see if everything was going according to plan, smoothly. 

He entered the office and Charlie was there, sitting behind the desk, just like all those months before. They made small talk while the boy accompanied him to her office. When he opened the door, she was looking down at some papers on the desk and her hair was up supported by a pen. “Perfect, Charlie, sorry to bother you, but I'' Who apologised to his assistant for asking something? Always so polite.

When she looked up, her eyes opened big in surprise at seeing him. Hayden realised she was wearing the glasses she wore when they first met and that with the light entering the room her eyes shined. Maybe it was my presence? No, it couldn’t be. It was 100% the light, for sure. “Hello.” He said with a kind smile on his lips.

“Hi.” She smiled brightly, just like she usually did. Usually as in the two times he saw her, one in person and the other by a screen. “You are early.” She looked at the watch on her right wrist.

“Again.” He joked earning a laugh from her.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” She pointed at the sofa where he sat months ago, a vase with white jasmines on the little table there. “Tea?” He nodded and when she was about to ask Charlie the boy nodded and walked away with a tiny smile on his lips.

He, for sure, made himself comfortable and started walking around the office. It didn’t seem empty as it did before, now it had books on the shelves; a few more drawings, it was more cosy, and the same video camera was still there on one of the shelves. He traced it with his finger, slowly, trying to not damage it. “That camera was the thing that started everything, it was my father’s but I made it mine.” Her sweet voice became sweeter.

“It was your first camera?” He turned around to look at her and she nodded with a smile on her lips. Was she always smiling?

“I used to record everything around me with it.” The papers on her desk were long forgotten. “Everything that made me happy, to never forget it.”

He smiled at her way of seeing things. “You still do?”

She hummed. “From time to time, when I’m utterly, incandescently, happy.” He was about to comment on that but she interrupted him. “Besides, vintage makes everything look good.” She laughed and he did too.

Charlie entered right when their laughs were in sync and their eyes shined. “Your tea, Mr. Christensen.” The boy left the drink on the small table there and walked away with a smirk on his lips.

“Are you ready for today?” With a few strikes, he sat on the sofa facing her. She nodded, biting her lips, while arranging the stacks of papers on her desk. He was about to comment on something about her nervous behaviour but chose against it, afraid of making her more nervous. “Did you eat something?” She shook her head. “You want me to grab you a coffee or something?”

She looked up to him. The same kind eyes of all those months back were looking at him “No, thank you.” and shook her head. “If I drink coffee now I’m afraid I will not be able to sit still on the reading table.” A little laugh escaped his lips and the same shyness, and blush, from months ago, appeared again making him clear his throat. Get it together.

With small talk, his attempt to take her mind out of what was about to happen, the time had passed and they had to go to meet the rest to do the first reading table. They exited the office and, as the gentleman he was, he offered to carry all the papers in her hands, but she refused it. Claiming that she was more than capable of doing it herself.

For the first time since he saw her that day, he paid attention to her whole outfit and it was much more formal than the one she used the first day they met. Little heels that made her reach his mouth, black tights, a skirt with a little cut on the side that fitted quite well and a black shirt with the first two buttons undone. And she smelled like jasmine, like the ones in her office.

They reached the room where everything was going to unfold and she stopped a few meters from the door. “You okay?” Hayden asked her and she nodded. “You need a minute?” She nodded again and he gave it to her, even took a step back and let her gather her strength.

The brunette watched her take a few deep breaths and move her head from side to side. “Okay, you got this.” He heard her mumble and a smile appeared on his lips. After a few seconds, she turned around and looked at him. “Ready when you are,” she joked.

He got closer to her laughing, “Ready.” She nodded and he held the door for her to enter first, he walked after her.

Ewan was already there, the executives and the three writers too. The two long-time friends hugged each other and caught up for a few minutes. “Have you already met our amazing, incredible, director?” The Scottish man asked.

“Yes, I had the pleasure,” Hayden said, looking around for her. She was standing by his side moments ago and now she wasn’t.

“She’s amazing, I have been working with her since the beginning and I promise you are going to be blown away by her.” Ewan was more excited by all that was happening than any of them. 

“I have not a single doubt,” his eyes found her in the mess of people and a smile appeared on his lips.

Four days of the same routine, Hayden would arrive every day a little earlier than the prior just to sit in her office and talk to her. Some days Charlie would have a tea already in the making for him and others he would carry a coffee with a chocolate muffin in hand for her because she tended to not eat.

And his list of things he noticed about her would keep getting longer. Her favourite colour was red, she had a sweet tooth, and jasmines and yellow daffodils were her favourite flowers, she used normal glasses when her eyes got irritated after using lenses all the time; plus according to her, they added dramatic effect when she was stressed, she was left-handed, that she scrunched her nose, but her brows didn’t frown, when she didn’t like something and that she truly, and naturally, was a smiley person. All the things he noticed weren’t personal stuff, she was pretty reserved and he could resemble her about that.

It was the last day of the reading table and truth be told, the script was garbage. It was the same thing as the series that were already being streamed. All those days, and hours spent were futile, the ones he had to be seated at that table, not the ones he was seated on the sofa in her office. They all tried to bring something to the table for the script to work, but it was useless. Everyone knew it and someone had to rip the bandaid off. 

“Well...” the executive producer began, “thoughts?” And they all looked at her.

As if she could feel all the gazes on her, she looked up. “Sincerely?” And they nodded. She looked around the room, Hayden could see her demeanour changed as if she had built a wall inside her and was ready for anything. “It’s the same thing we saw billions of times.” She was straightforward. “If we keep this way, the critic is going to smash us.” She voiced what all of them were thinking.

“Excuse me?” One of the writers said.

She frowned, “we are making a series about an icon of the cinematography universe, whose story is tightly intertwined with one of the biggest villains of history, about a universe that changed lives and the way of seeing cinema and this script-” she picked it up “does not reflect that.” The nervous girl Hayden saw before was left at the door and seated with him was a decisive woman, with her work pants well put on and a clear idea in mind. "This script is too small for a production as big as this one, as awaited as this one."

“And what would you know about making a script for a production this big?” The writer looked at her up and down. “You are just a child, you are too small a director for a production like this.” All the people in the room were surprised at such harsh, disrespectful, words. “Little Miss Director.” He added with a derogatory tone.

Ewan and Hayden were ready to chime in, along with a few other people on the crew, but she beat them to it. “First of all, you are excused.” She raised her chin and sat straight. “Second, I formed myself, I studied and improved after every project I made, it didn't matter how little it was.” Long was gone the sweet tone she carried. “I'm worthy of being here, believe me, I am one of the best out there and I have the skills to direct this project.” She had a cold look in her eyes. “If this is your script, which I guess it is, by how offended you are getting at hearing my honest opinion, maybe it’s you who does not know about big productions.” 

The silence that fell upon the room was a sepulchral one, not even a fly flew around. She kept her gaze on the writer until he stormed off the room, followed by a bang from the door. They all looked that way, but Hayden kept his eyes on her and caught the moment when she let go of a shaky breath and played with one of the many rings on her fingers. Their eyes connected and he frowned, asking a silent question, but she just gave him a small smile, reassuring him she was fine. 

After apologies from the executive producers and the writers on behalf of the rude partner, they all agreed with her that the script was awful and that she was right. Ideas came and went but nothing seemed to fit and be worthy of, the concept they had in mind. “You worked as a writer too for the projects you were on, didn't you?" Ewan asked, looking at her. "Besides, directing them.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes…” 

“They were very good, award-worthy.” He added making her open her eyes big, Hayden frowned. But when she was going to answer, the Scottish talked again. “Why don’t you write something?”

She seemed caught off guard, Hayden watched how her lips parted a little and her eyes scanned the room, while Ewan had a kind smile on his lips. After all, he was one of the executive producers and he had that kind of power at the table. “Yeah, we will meet in a couple of months and we will discuss it again.” Another executive producer said.

She looked even more surprised, her brows a little more raised than before. “We can work with you, discuss ideas and build the story together.” One of the writers said while the other nodded eagerly. “We will help each other and it would be an honour for us.”

A smile appeared on her lips, but Hayden realised it was a nervous one; not like the ones he saw her make when she took a sip of her coffee, or when she talked about the video camera in her office. “Yeah, okay.” The confident woman who put the idiot writer in his place was gone and the same nervous girl who was left outside the room appeared again. “We can do that. There are a few ideas in here that we can use as a base and build upon them.” She nodded looking at the script as if it was going grow a mouth and eat her alive

The meeting finished after a few minutes and they talked about schedules for the future, which was uncertain until the scripts were ready. When Hayden got up to talk to her she was already on her way to walk away from the room, like her life depended on it, and was left to talk with Ewan, not that he didn’t like catching up with his friend, but if he was honest, he was a little worried about her.

January 2020, first vestiges of emotions.

The last time the pair saw each other they couldn't even have the chance to say goodbye because when Hayden went to her office to talk to her, Charlie told him she was already gone for the day and he was flying back to Canada in a few hours. He weighed the options of calling her, or sending her a text, to ask if everything was fine but in the end, he desisted, to not come up as dense. 

To his surprise, she texted him a few weeks after their last encounter, a simple hello, sorry to bother you, and presenting herself, as if he didn’t know who she was. All that to talk about work, about the script she, and the other writers, were working on.

Finally, it was time to see them, the team, in person. To see her in person. Their routine was picked up where they left it, him taking her a coffee and muffin and a hot tea waiting for him at her desk, and, of course, he arrived early. 

“Hello, Charlie,” Hayden said as soon as he passed the door from his office floor. 

“Hello, Mr. Christensen,” The boy said, despite the multiple times he told him to call him by his name and not that formal title. “She will arrive shortly, you can come in,” Charlie said with a smile on his lips. “You already know the way.” 

Laughing a little, he walked towards her office. There were new drawings on the shelves, still no photos, the video camera was still in place and the smell of jasmine was still there. The sticky posts on the computer were there and despite all his mother's teachings that what he was going to do was impolite, he did it. Slowly he walked to the other side of her desk and readed them. 'Most Ardently’ was writing in one of them with a little heart and clear handwriting, ‘Shine on, you crazy diamond. Love, the kids and I’ that one made him frown. She was married with kids? The kids would explain all the drawings, but she never mentioned anything about kids when he talked about his daughter, and the married thing was hard to guess with all the rings she had on her fingers. She never said anything about being taken, nor had any photos in her office with someone, and she was a very closed person, so he was not going to pray into her private life if she didn’t let anything on. 

And like months ago, when they first met, he heard her sweet voice in the hallway talking with Charlie and it went almost the same way it did the first time, him being cute wasn’t said that time. 

“Hi, Hayden.” She said as soon as she opened the door. When he looked at her he had to suppress a laugh that was about to escape his lips. “What?” She was frowning at him.

His eyes trailed her up and down. “You are under all that?” She was small, that much was a fact, but she looked so much smaller under the, almost, total black outfit she was wearing. A big ass long coat, loose high dress pants, a fitted t-shirt that covered her up to her neck and white Converse, that looked like they were from his daughter from how small they seemed.

“Well yeah.” She took the sunglasses off her head and a few rebel hairs fell to her face making her blow them away. Her silver rings and silver necklace with her initials contrasted with her clothes. “I’m cold.”

“I can see that,” he laughed while walking to greet her. It came naturally to him to kiss her cheek followed by a little. “Hello.” The smell of jasmine invaded him and his voice sounded deeper for some reason. When he moved away, the brunette took notice of how her cheeks and nose were red from the cold. Was it from the cold though? “Are you that cold?”

“Huh?” She frowned like she didn’t understand. “Ah, yeah.” She nodded, and a nervous laugh escaped her lips. 

Charlie interrupted them carrying his tea while she hung her coat and got comfortable. The little interaction was forgotten by the time the boy walked out of the office with a frown on his face, looking at his boss. “I brought you breakfast,” Hayden said pointing at the cup next to her keyboard.

She smiled kindly at him, but that smile changed when she took a sip of the hot drink. It wasn’t a bad change, it was a good one. The way her lips curved gave him flashbacks of the memory tattooed on his brain about the first time he met her in person. He wasn’t afraid of messing up her coffee order, he knew it was the right one because he had picked it up on the few times they had been together.

She seemed less nervous this time around, there weren’t stacks of papers on her desk like the last time, nor she wasn’t running around. She seemed grounded, confident even. He tried to get information out of her about the new scripts but it was impossible, she gave him vague answers with a polite smile on her face, which made him laugh. “You are getting better at this,” he took a sip of his tea, looking at her.

“I know,” she smiled smugly. “I've been taking notes on how not to spill everything about a new project.” The brunette noticed how proud she looked about that. “I wouldn’t want them to fire me for speaking too much,” her tone was a playful one.

He laughed. “They would never,” his eyebrows were frowned and he shook his head. “Not after all the work you’ve done,” he reassured her.

Between sips of hot drinks, Hayden told her about his farm in Canada, about Briar Rose and small things here and there about his life while she listened attentively to all his words. The morning sun entering from the window behind her, seated at his side, added some kind of soft, cosy, effect to the office. Intimate. While they were laughing about something he said, a knock on the door behind him interrupted them. “Come in,” she called, still laughing.

“Hello there,” an accent Hayden recognized very well reached his ears and she started laughing again.

The brunette turned around and standing there was Ewan with a smile on his face. “Obi-Wan,” the pair said, making the Scottish laugh too.

“Good to see you two here.” They all hugged each other. “I was coming to pick our beloved director up but you beat me to it,” he joked looking at him.

Immediately she blushed. “We are having breakfast, would you like something?” She asked in her sweet tone.

“No, no. Nothing darling, thank you.” The trio stood in the middle of the office. “Are you ready?” Ewan asked and Hayden looked at her too.

She nodded, “Yeah, everything’s ready. The scripts are already arranged in the room where we are going to meet, the seats are designated.”

“You are well prepared then,” Ewan said surprised. “Yeah, you seemed more ready than last time when you were running around like crazy until the last minutes,” Hayden added. If his eyes weren’t on her, he would have seen the look in his dear friend's eyes.

“Well, I've had everything ready for like a week or so,” she shrugged but the pair looked at her surprised. “What? I like having things in order,” she defended herself.

It was time for them to meet with the rest of the crew so they walked out of the office, her first, and made their way there. The two men told her about the funny things they remembered while they filmed the first two movies and the technology they had to do it. 

Hayden noticed that she seemed much more carefree this time around than the first time they did the table reading, she didn’t stop at the door to take a deep breath, nor to give herself a little pep talk. She just entered the room like she owned it, like she deserved to be there, which she did, and that made him smile.

Just as she said, the table already had the scripts on it and tags in front of the chairs, it was a completely different room than the one they were months ago. There were different people inside, who were supposed to be the cast, the writers, the executive producers and them. “Ready boys?” She asked with a smile on her lips making them look at each other with their eyebrows raised and they laughed, but followed her nonetheless. 

They all sat around the big circular table, the writers at her sides, while he Ewan, and the rest of the team, dispersed around the table. The crew was also there, seated surrounding them. The reading started but her sweet voice didn’t chime in at any moment, Hayden watched her make notes here and there on her script and whispered with the writers beside her.

They connected eyes more than a few times, she always caught him looking at her for some reason, only a couple of times it was the other way around like they could feel their gaze on each other. Her reaction was always the same, a sweet smile on her lips. Her hair was held by a pen, again, and at some point, she put her glasses on. This time around she didn’t play much with her rings, but she did it with the silver delicate watch on her wrist. 

He looked around the table to watch the crew's reaction and they all had mixed emotions, but they were the exact opposite of what that rubbish script generated. By the time the reading ended, everyone was silent with unreadable looks on their faces. But she was in her world, still making notes. Almost three minutes passed when someone decided to speak. “Well,” Ewan broke the silence, from his tone he could guess, because he had his blue eyes fixed on her, that he was smiling. “Little Miss Director did it again.” She raised her head looking at him.

And looked around the table confused, suspiciously. “Meaning?” Her tone was so unsure, he found it cute.

“It’s brilliant, this is excellent.” One of the producers said.

Everyone chimed in to praise the script, the cast; the crew; and every single person in the room. Hayden watched at how her face broke into a beautiful big grin, eyes shining and cheeks blushed. Her eyes connected with his and he grinned too, that was the effect of her smile. 

The session was over and everybody stood up to leave, and this time she didn’t run away instead stood chatting with whoever approached her. “Didn't I tell you she was brilliant?” Ewan said, clapping his shoulder.

“Yeah, you did.” He nodded and his friend looked pleased. “It’s one of the best scripts I have ever read, well written; well articulated; balanced. It's amazing.” Hayden was speechless at how creative she was, at how amazing she was.

Ewan nodded proudly. “I knew from the moment I watched one of her films that she was perfect for the series, that’s why I recommended her for the position.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Plus, her resume is impeccable. She's something else.” The brunette nodded with his eyes fixed on her. “Totally worthy of being showrunner.” Hayden looked at him surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head. “She doesn't talk much when we are together, I do most of it, plus she’s very private.”

“Yeah she is, it took me a while for her to trust me but she would eventually open up,” his friend tried to reassure him. “If she trusts you,” he added, clapping his back laughing. 

Hayden shook his head, “thanks man.” Ewan laughed harder.

“She reminds me of you a little bit when we first met,” the Scottish said and he looked at him frowning. “Incredibly passionate young soul, keen and very creative." 

Hayden smiled at the kind words of his dear friend and found it more special that he found such touching words related to her. He was about to respond when she walked towards them.

"Good job, Little Miss Director." Ewan joked when he saw her.

She laughed tilting her head back but did a little bow, Hayden smiled. "Thank you, Ewan." He bowed his head. "Truly for your trust and help in this process."

He smiled, "It was my pleasure darling." And they hugged.

When they parted, she looked at Hayden with a big smile too. He felt shy under her gaze but enjoyed it too. "Thank you too, Hayden." He shook his head. "For being patient with me and all my questions, helping me and your encouraging words."

Sweetly, as her voice, she hugged him. Engulfed him with her arms around his neck, she was on her tiptoes and he had to bend down a little to put his arms around her back, not her waist because he was respectful. The jasmine scent, her scent, reached his nose making him dizzy. His mouth was so close to her neck, to her pulse point, that if he moved his head a little to the right he would graced it with his lips and he felt her hot breath in his pulse point, making him weak on the knees.

The hug ended far too quickly for his liking. What? When they pulled apart he had to clear his throat and blinked a couple of times. Fucks sake, Hayden, get a hold of yourself. You are 38 and she’s 11 years younger than you, think straight.

February 2020, special day.

It had been a couple of months since he last saw her, which he was thankful about because the hug she gave him was too much for him. Too much for his brain. Too much for his heart. Too fucking much.

He thought that maybe the peace of his farm would give him the clarity he needed but it didn't happen. Not a single clear thought about whatever he was feeling came his way. About work? Yes. About what he was going to eat for dinner? Lots. About feelings, which were a mess? Not a single one.

Ewan and he were talking on the phone about life, making a habit of staying in contact and not like the last decade and a couple of years. They were talking about projects and life, while all Hayden’s brain was screaming was, Ask him about her. ASK HIM! but he tried to not let that part of him win. 

Obviously was futile because he ended up talking about work, which of course ended up with her name being said. “You know anything about her?” He shut his eyes and frowned, with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I talked on the phone with her a couple of days ago. Something about the script.” His friend said and he nodded.

“How was she?” The words blurted out his mouth before he had the time to process them. He was seconds away from smashing his head through the wall if that made him stop thinking about her. Teenage behaviour, right there Hayden. The laughter on the other side of the phone made him shake his head, regretting asking. 

“Fascinated by our Little Miss Director I see.” Ewan teased and he had to hum because if he opened his mouth the teasing would meet no end. “I get it, she’s pretty awesome.”

“Yes, she is.” Well, fuck it, he would embarrass himself for shits and giggles.

The days after his chat with Ewan, where he mentioned her resume, he could have Googled her, to know what his friend meant, but he decided against it. The opportunity, the privilege, of hearing about her life from her mouth would be more rewarding, more special, than reading it on some gossip page.

Ewan laughed again. “It’s her birthday in a couple of days.” His ears perked when his friend told him the exact date when it was. “Did you know it?” 

“No, no. I didn’t know it.” Mentally the date was already marked. 

The Scottish laughed again. “Well now you know, thank me later.” The brunette thanked God that the teasing stopped because otherwise, he was going to mentally kick himself. They kept talking for twenty minutes and the conversation ended with “Send her something pretty!” from Ewan’s part before he hung up.

The date of her birthday came and Hayden kept looking at the phone on his counter, Briar Rose having breakfast next to him. “Are you okay Daddy?” She asked in her sweet voice.

“Yes, sweetie.” He caressed her face. “Just thinking.”

“ ‘bout?” Her big blue eyes looked at him.

He deliberated on telling her about his doubts or brushing them off. “It’s one of my friend’s-” Friend? Was she a friend? Or a colleague maybe? What was she?  “birthday and I don’t know what to get her.” Maybe she would help him decide what to give her.

“What she likes?” She asked, taking a sip from her princess cup.

He racked his brain trying to think about something she told him she liked, but a single thing came up. “Flowers.” Unconsciously he could scent jasmine, even though there wasn't a single one of them in his house. "Jasmine."

“They’re nice and pretty.” That was answer enough for him.

Smiling, he leant and kissed the crown of her head. “You are right, sweetie.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

Giving her a last look, he took his phone and walked to the living room. First tone. You got this. Second tone. Nothing to stress about. Third tone. They're just flowers. Fourth tone and they answered. Too late to back down.

Twenty minutes he was on the phone with the flower shop, twenty minutes where he felt like a teenage boy with a massive crush, a little pathetic if he was honest with himself, and then he went on with his day like normal.

He and Briar were making lunch when his phone rang, whipping his hands on a towel he grabbed his phone and as fast as he picked it up he almost let it fall. Her name appeared on his screen, she was calling. She was calling him.

After coming out of his astonishment, he answered it before she hung up. "Hello."

"Hayden, hi." Her sweet voice reached his ear. "How are you? I hope I'm not interrupting your day." He could hear her walking around her office.

He chuckled. "I'm fine, how are you?" He turned the burner down. "And you are not interrupting, we were making lunch." 

"We?" She cleared her throat. "Sorry. What were you making?" 

"Briar Rose wanted pasta for lunch, so I'm obliging." The little girl walked past him and he caressed her head.

"Nice, it goes great with the cold." The picture of her with her nose and cheeks red popped up on his brain. "I will not take much of your time with her." He shook his head as if she could see him. "I called you to thank you for the beautiful bouquet, I love it." 

He smiled, big and brightly. "I'm glad you liked it." Was she smiling too?

"The note is very beautiful too. My favourite part may I say." The teenage boy with a crush feeling was worthy then.

"I'm pleased to hear, Little Miss Director." He joked, hoping to hear her laugh and he did. 

"How did you know?" She asked curiously.

"A little chatty bird called Ewan maybe, possibly, most certainly, slipped that your birthday was coming up while we talked a few weeks ago.” Hayden knew that wasn't the entire truth, not even close, but just this time he was going to throw his friend under the bus for sure.

She laughed, and possibly she was shaking her head. "Who else if not him?" He laughed too and the background noise became louder. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Hayden, but I got to go." Her kind tone reached his ears.

"No no, please. Duty calls." He thought that she would send him a quick message so hearing her voice was a surprise, although it was for a couple of minutes.

"Bye, I hope your lunch is good. See you later, Starboy." And before he could answer, she hung up.

As if his life was taken from a cheesy rom-com, like the ones he acted in, Hayden stood in the middle of his kitchen looking at his phone as her name disappeared from the screen, but not the feelings from the centre of his chest.

April 2020, Unexpected delight.

His birthday was a special day for him, surrounded by the ones he loved the most. Spending the whole day with his daughter, eating with his family and having a fun time with a few friends. As the private person he was, he couldn't ask for more.

Soon he would have to start training for Anakin's role, so he was enjoying the time off. Briar Rose surprised him with breakfast in bed, helped by his mother, who came around to greet him and helped her beloved granddaughter. 

They were seated in the living room talking about small things and his plans for the day when the doorbell of his front gate rang. “Did you invite someone?” He asked his mother while walking towards the phone he had by the door, but she shook her head. “Yes?”

“Is Mr. Christensen at home?” A male voice said.

He looked at the little screen there and it was a grown man dressed in a FedEx uniform. “Yes, he is.”

“We have a package for him, we need his signature to confirm that he received it.” The man showed the papers in hand and at the box below his arm.

“Okay, I’m coming.” Grabbing his jacket and keys, “It’s a package, I’ll be right back.” he said over his shoulder.

The walk towards the front gate was chilly, he had his hands in his pockets and nose buried in the neck of his jacked. When he saw the guy at the door, the package he had in his arms was a normal size. “Hello.”

“Hello.” They nodded at each other. “You know what it is?” The brunette asked.

The guy shrugged. “No idea, man. It just says fragile and it’s from the US.” Hayden opened the gate and the guy passed him the pen and paper for him to sign. 

He did it, but frowning. It couldn’t be the script, because she would have told him, or Ewan. His friends would have told him if they would be sending him a present, so that wasn’t an option. He tried to think what could possibly be but nothing came to mind. He handed the pen and paper back and the guy gave him the box. “There you go, have a nice day.”

His blue eyes were fixed on the box. “Yeah you too, man.” As quickly as he could he made his way back to the house.

Shaking the box to see what was inside wasn’t an option because it said fragile and whatever it was it could break. His curiosity was getting the best of him when he entered his house. Briar and his mom were still seated on the couch talking but raised their heads to look at him. “What is it, dear?” His mom asked but he shrugged. “From who is it?” He shrugged again. “You know something?” She asked, teasing.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s from the US and it’s fragile.” Her mom frowned. But he walked towards the kitchen and put the box on the counter while he looked for scissors. 

“Can I see it, daddy?” Briar Rose asked from the couch. 

He opened the top drawer. “As soon as I open it, I’m going to show it to you, sweetie.” His voice raised for her to hear him.

The box had a simple black box inside and nothing on it, he frowned again but kept opening it. When he lifted the lid the inside was colourful and smelled amazing. It smelled like jasmine and he smiled. Large pieces of paper, of all colours, surrounded a black cup and a couple of tea bags next to it. He picked up the box and walked towards the living room. “Look, sweetie.”

The little girl opened her eyes big and made space, even though there was plenty, next to her for him to sit. “What is it?”

“A gift.” He said putting the box on the mini table there. The little girl picked up a few of the papers there and started playing with them.

His mother looked at it and smiled. “It’s nice. Who sent it?”

Hayden knew who sent it by the mere smell that came from it, the tea was another clue for all the times they had breakfast together. “A friend.” Two simple words that had nothing simple, describe nothing simple and meant nothing simple to his feelings. His big hand engulfed the cup and lifted it, a laugh came out of him when he saw what was engraved on the side.

Briar Rose and his mom looked at it and the little girl found it hilarious, even though she didn’t quite understand the reference, while her mom laughed a little too. “Storm Pooper.” The girl said between giggles and Hayden laughed at hearing her giggling. 

His mother passed him a white paper folded in half, “there’s a note.” 

Quickly he exchanged the cup for the paper with her and stood up. His name was written in clean neat handwriting and inside were a few simple words. 

Happy Birthday, Starboy, enjoy your day surrounded by the people who are glad and cherish your presence in this world.

 Love, Little Miss Director.

“Someone special?” His mom’s voice brought him back to the real world. He looked at her frowning for a couple of seconds before his eyes fell back to her words. “You are smiling quite big right now.”

Why deny the obvious? “I have to make a phone call, can you keep an eye on Bri?” But he didn’t wait for an answer and walked to the kitchen with his phone.

The last time they talked on the phone was in March for something related to the script, a few questions she had about when he filmed the movies and Ewan was also on the call because the question was directed at him too, so it wasn’t like they talked to each other and it was completely professional. First ring. Keep it simple. Second tone. Casual, relax. Third ring. You are just colleagues, nothing more. Fourth ring. Nothing more because she’s 11 years younger than me. Fifth t- “Hi.” Her sweet voice reached him, a little out of breath as if she was running.

“Hello.” And again, for some reason, his voice went deeper. More than what already was.

Music could be heard in the background. “Did you receive it?” She sounded excited. “Please tell me it arrived whole, please.”

He laughed. “Yes, it did.” She exhaled. “Thank you very much.” He smiled and hoped that she was smiling too. “You didn’t have too.”

“Nonsense.” He could imagine her shaking her head. “Did you like it?” She sounded unsure and he tilted his head to the side. “Because if you don’t it’s okay.” She didn’t let him answer. “I have the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old and I will not apologise for it, but I will understand if you find it hideous.” She used, what he remembered was, her mocking tone and took him back to one of the times he was in her office and they were just chilling. 

“I love it.” He said truthfully and heard her make some victorious sound that made him laugh, which made her laugh. “Briar Rose found it hilarious too.” 

“She did?” She sounded excited again. “Oh, that’s amazing.” He nodded. “When we saw it, I thought that it was hilarious and had to buy it for your birthday.”

He was touched by the sentiment and the gesture. She saw something and thought about me. But the plural pronoun made him frown, it didn’t sit right with him. “We?”

“Yeah, my niece, nephew and me.” She was sharing something private about her. She trusts me. “They are a little older than Briar Rose.”

“Oh.” So the drawings must be from them. But was she married? “Well, you have great taste and as soon as I use it, I will let you know.”

She laughed. “Thank you and I hope you like the tea too.”

“So, what’s up with the nickname?” Since she started calling him like that after her birthday the question has been on his mind.

She laughed. “It seems only fair since I’m Little Miss Director that you are Starboy.” and said in an obvious tone. “Does it bother you? Cause if it does I will stop calling you that.” She was quick to say.

But he shook his head. “Not at all, I’m okay with it.” He heard her hum and, a little afraid, of the conversation finishing there he scratched the back of his head thinking about what he could say to keep her on the phone. “I called in at a bad time?” Hayden wanted to keep talking to her, keep hearing her voice.

“No no, I was cleaning my house, that’s why I was late to answer.” He nodded even though she couldn't see him. 

“On Sunday?” She would notice that you don’t want to hang up, Hayden.

“It’s my only free day.” She laughed. “What about you? Big plans for today?”

They talked for a little while longer, about noncenses, but Briar started calling for him and he didn’t want to take too much of her time, bullshit, so the call was cut short. But the smile he carried for the day was notorious to his mum, to his daughter, to his friends, to everyone who saw him that day, and all because of a phone call with his director.

Next Part →

[jaxfromthatcircus]

Finally, it's here. The randysworld2009 masterdoc.

The following odocument is covering everything that the mod of this blog could gather, along with the help of the people that spoke up and the friends and family that were affected by this dude.

I want to personally thank @sunification, @the-amazing-digital-moon and @honeylavendersweets for their help, this wouldn't be possible without them.

With no more wait, doc be upon ye.

Having read all of that, one of the main problems that people have been facing with this guy is regarding blocking, where someone does it but he keeps coming back anyways. One of the suggestions is that it's because blocking is only blog-level, and not account-level, that means that you have to block a person individually in each side blog of yours.

How do you block someone in a side blog?

WEB version

First, you need to find your blog settings. For that, click on Account -> choose the side blog you want to blog them on and click it -> View blog -> Blog settings

You'll have to scroll down to the bottom of the page, where you'll find the "Blocked Tumblrs" part.

Click on the pencil and type the blog's @, then click on BLOCK.

And boom, immediately added to the list!

Mobile APP version

So far, unfortunately, there is not a way to block from side accounts on the mobile app yet. The way around it is to access Tumblr from your mobile navigator in desktop mode and follow the same steps as the above.

@randysworld2009

I fucked your mom.

[crappy-writings]

Keeper of Shadows

Wanda MaximoffxReader // Series

Series Summary: An odd series of fatal attacks in Upstate New York piques your interest, especially when they seem to be related to the strange powers you received when you were 10 years old. By some stroke of luck or misfortune, the Avengers too are investigating the case, and you are their number one suspect. In a temporary alliance, you work together to discover why people are dying, unraveling a line of love, secrets, and betrayal.

*Image is not mine, credit to the creator

Chapter 1: The Agent, The Witch, and The Sword

(Chapter) Summary: With a strange rise of murders in the outskirts of New York, Natasha and Wanda are sent to investigate. While scouting the scene, they meet a rather curious figure, one they have not determined if they are friend or foe.

Trigger Warnings: descriptive murder details, crime scene details, guns, blood, injuries, cannon typical violence, I think that's it

Word Count: 3,714

A/N: This has been on the backburner for about 2 years, I think, and only now got around to writing it. Like, there’s a whole 10 page doc about this idea. I don't know if its any good but hopefully it makes sense.

Also, there’s a line here that feels topical and I wanna say Free Palestine.

Chapter 2 →

KoS Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Reblogged Fics

Wanda’s room at the Avengers Compound still felt rather… uncomfortable. She had spent months trying to find authentic Sokovian trinkets, crafts and cultural items to remind her of home, but they were hard to come by out here in the states. She filled it with other things, generic room decor like blue candles, and blue shaded lamps, a small hourglass with red sand, and a globe that she had added red push pins to, marking the places she had been to. A guitar with a stand and sheet music laid beside her bed.

She has a pin board that hangs over her desk, salvaged photographs of her family reminding her of a life short lived. One was a family photo, her mother carrying a four-year-old Pietro while her father carried a four-year-old Wanda, bright goofy smiles over the children’s face. Another, an image of her mother holding a baby Wanda and baby Pietro,  as well as a photograph of a young Pietro, a mess of toys and household objects scattered about.

She hoped that keeping mementos of home would bring her comfort. Instead, it brought waves of bittersweetness and nostalgia. Although there was comfort in home, she was also reminded that she would never return there. There was nowhere to return to. Where once stood a war-torn yet proud country remained a pile of ash, and rubble, and death.

She sighs deeply, dropping her clothes in her hamper, having had swapped it out for a somewhat loose fitting, black, repurposed S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. She finished adjusting the standard issue gauntlets and belt, before sitting down on her bed to put on her boots. A soft knocking came from the door.

“Come in,” Wanda’s accented voice calls out as she laces up her boots. “You ready?” Natasha asks as she poked her head through the door. 

“Yeah,” she replies as she stands from her bed.

“Alright then, let’s go, Hill’s contact is waiting for us,” the red-headed assassin says as Wanda approaches her. Natasha also wore a similarly fitting S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, except she wore her own customized gauntlets and belt, along with her usual weapons. 

“Why exactly did we get called in by the FBI?” the brunette asked as both women walked through the corridors of the Compound. 

“Well, one of Hill’s old contacts called in a favor. They’re working a case that seems to be… more aligned with our type of work,” Natasha says cryptically. “You mean aliens, godly beings, Hydra experiments and genocidal robots?” Wanda asks at an attempt at humor.

“Yep, just about sums it up,” Natasha gives her a small smirk as they walk towards the garage. 

“Is there anything we know about the case?” Wanda asks as both Avengers approach Natasha’s Black-colored Corvette.

“There’s been a series of murders at one of the national forests. Fourth body was found about three hours ago. Here’s the file,” Natasha opened the driver’s side door, and handed Wanda a yellow file folder as she sat in the passenger’s seat.

“Since when do we investigate murders?” Wanda asks curiously as she takes the file from Natasha’s hand.

“You’ll understand once you read the file,” she sighs as she begins to drive out of the Compound. 

The file details a series of gruesome attacks, most of them having taken place just a few miles away from the Finger Lakes National Forest, the investigation being led by Special Agent Gregory Miller. All of them had happened in the span of the last four months, each body was found approximately 25 miles away from each other. The file included the postmortem reports of three victims, detailing blackened scratches and long cuts throughout the victim’s entire body, as well as odd, swirl-patterned burn marks along the upper body. Bruises circled the victims’ necks and one of the victims had a sprained ankle, believed to have occurred as they attempted to run from their attacker. The file included forensic photographs of the victims, much to Wanda’s discomfort.

Interviews with the victims’ kin all described them to be acting angry and erratic, before leaving without notification. No victim was known to take any illegal substances, nor were they diagnosed with any ailments that could potentially cause their sudden change in behavior. 

Forensics reports that the attacks seem to be almost animalistic. The blackened nature of the wounds was not due to decay and were not consistent with regular burns. They did not exactly understand what it was. The official determined cause of death for all the victims was strangulation.

Lastly, the report included newspaper clippings describing the attacks to the general public:

Bear attacks or murder? Odd series of fatal attacks in Upstate New York confound authorities

Concerns among citizens of the Upstate area rise as another body is found near the Finger Lakes National Forest. 

The body of Elijah Brown, a 46-year-old accountant from the Upstate area, was found 10 miles away from the outskirts of the National Forest. This is the third victim to be found in the area.

Local law enforcement informed investigators that the injuries and cause of death for the three victims are consistent with bear attacks. Citizens voiced their concerns over the wild creatures making their way to residences and potentially hurting them, their loved ones or neighbors.

Despite this, private sources indicate that authorities are considering it may be due to a new potential serial killer, despite the allegations of the deaths being caused by bear attacks. All three bodies have been found within approximately 25 miles away of each other, all within a four-month time period. 

When confronted with the allegation that it may instead be a serial killer, officer Davis stated, “We are currently waiting on the coroner's report of the victim to determine whether this was a tragic accident or a potential murder. Our investigation team is waiting on these results before determining what is going on.”

Investigators learned from the victim’s son that Mr. Brown was not known for hiking or hunting, putting into question why he had been out in the forest in the first place.

As the community waits for answers, Park officials and The U.S. Fish and Wildlife department advises hikers to remain on clearly marked paths when out and to wear bright or reflective clothing, and hunters are urged to take every necessary safety precaution, including staying in designated hunting areas, avoid refuge areas, and to make sure your certifications are up to date.

“This is…” Wanda interrupts the comfortable silence they had been riding in the last 30 minutes.

“Yeah,” Natasha says, her lips pressed tightly.

“I can see why he called in the favor,” Wanda comments as she closes the file, “do they have any leads?”

“Don’t think so, they would’ve included it in the file,” Natasha answers with a slight shake of her head. Wanda watched as they zipped through a winding road, a lush, autumn-colored forest stretching both in front and behind them. Up ahead, she notices a large “Finger Lakes National Forest” sign, along with other road signs nearby.

“Do you have any idea what it could be?” Wanda presses tentatively.

“Honestly? No. I’ve never seen anything like this,” the Widow replies.

Wanda hummed in acknowledgement. Both women carried on a pleasant conversation, talking about Wanda’s training progress before settling into a comfortable silence as they approached their destination. 

Natasha begins to drive off the main road, following a marked-out path into the forest. The car hit a few bumps as they drove through the beaten path. “I should've taken one of Tony’s cars,” Natasha muttered, earning a silent laugh from Wanda.

After about five more minutes, both Avengers saw the FBI trucks, agents spread throughout the forest in front of them. Natasha pulled up behind one of the trucks, leaving a generous amount of space between them.

“Here, put this on,” Natasha tosses Wanda a navy-blue jacket with yellow letters spelling “FBI” in the back as they get out of the car. “Hill’s contact wants us to blend in as best we can when we get here. Doesn’t want the public finding out that they had to call in the Avengers.” “And the S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform?” Wanda questions as she puts on the jacket. 

“Won’t stand out as much among the other uniforms, and Tony isn’t really funding clothes for missions. We make due with what we’ve got,” explained Natasha as they leave the car and head towards the crime scene.

Bright yellow police tape was wrapped around the trees surrounding the victim. Evidence markers were scarce, whatever evidence of who or what did this was near non-existent. People in white hazard suits investigated the body, taking samples and photographic evidence of the area and victim. Outside the police tape, some agents checked the perimeter, others were working away on laptops. Other forensic investigators seemed to be preparing to transport the body.

Natasha spotted Hill’s contact, a tall, brown-haired man with pale skin and a lean build. His hair was combed back, he wore black framed glasses, and he wore a large jacket, similar to the ones Natasha and Wanda had on. “Perfect timing. Special Agent Gregory Miller, thank you for offering your help,” the man introduced himself with a pressed smile, extending a warm hand to both women, “forensics is finishing up their investigation and sending the data to base as we speak.”

The man subtly cocks his head to the side and lets out a short chuckle. “What’s so funny?” Natasha asks, cocking an eyebrow at Gregory.

“No, no, it’s just,” he gestured to the Avengers’ uniforms, “if S.H.I.E.L.D. was still around, this case would’ve been taken off our hands a while ago.”

“Based on the information you sent us, definitely,” Natasha agrees.

“Yeah, well, anyways, this is James Gutierrez, age 34. A group of hunters went off the designated hunting area and found him. Wounds are consistent with what we’ve seen on the other three victims. Burns, bruises, scratches, all of it. We’ll still need to wait for the coroner’s report to establish the cause of death, but it will most likely be strangulation, just like the rest.”

Wanda was supposed to be listening to what Gregory was saying, but she was not. He repeated everything that had been in the file and although he was discussing the details of the fourth victim, they had still not gleaned any new information. 

Wanda looked around the scene as Gregory continued to talk. She saw the forensics team discuss something between them, and a few were putting away some equipment. A different forensics team was preparing to bag and transport the body. Other agents stood outside the bright yellow tape, discussing things Wanda could not hear from this distance, while others seemed to continue to verify the perimeter.

There was one agent that caught her eye, though. She could not see any distinguishing features from this distance, but she noticed they wore a black hat and jacket, printed with big white letters spelling “FBI.” She tilted her head to the side curiously as she observed the figure that simply stood there, alone. 

The figure seemed to be observing the crime scene, before pulling out a notebook from inside their jacket and writing something down. 

“Who’s that agent, the one in the hat?” Wanda asks out loud, interrupting Gregory from his monologue. “I’m sorry, what?” he asks, his eyes landing on Wanda.

“The agent up there. Their uniform is black and white, not blue and yellow,” Wanda explains.

Natasha follows Wanda’s gaze and clocks the figure immediately.

The figure approached the yellow tape but did not pass it. They subtly craned their neck, observing the victim, before writing something down again. 

“That’s the incorrect uniform,” Gregory says, furrowing his brow.

The figure looks up and accidentally makes eye contact with Wanda. A sudden rush of cold runs up Wanda’s spine, making her shiver involuntarily. They stare for a few moments, their head subtly cocking to the side in curiosity. 

Until something pulls the figure’s attention away as they suddenly look off to their right. Wanda follows their gaze but sees nothing. 

No, not nothing. The trees to the figure’s right were oddly distorted, moving from side to side in small, short waves. Best Wanda could describe it would be that it resembled heat waves radiating off hot pavements and cars. Wanda furrowed her brow in both confusion and curiosity.

But in the blink of an eye, the distortion disappears, the trees standing still behind the crime scene.

“That’s not one of my agents,” Gregory states. 

Wanda watches as the figure quickly puts away their notebook and begins to back away, their eyes never straying from whatever they saw to their right. They turn around and begin to hike up the small hill in front of them. Wanda saw out of the corner of her eye as Gregory reached for his communicator.

“Wanda, go from the right, I’ll take the left,” Natasha commands easily as she begins trailing the suspect.

Wanda nodded as she began running, circling around the right side of the yellow tape. The figure was already up the hill by the time they began their pursuit. Wanda found it odd, though, as the figure did not seem to be running away from them. Their faces gave away no signal of being caught, instead, they had looked at her in curiosity. Their focus was entirely placed on something beside them, beside the crime scene. They did not seem to be running towards something either.

No, they seemed to be leading something away.

Natasha and Wanda ran as quickly as they could, doing their best to avoid tripping over tree roots and rocks, the loud crunch of dead leaves sounding off with every quick step. The figure was fast, maintaining a good distance away from Natasha and her. That was before the stranger came to a sliding stop, staring at something in front of them. They stood quickly and backed up a few steps, their head raised as they stared at something slightly above them. 

Wanda herself began to slow down as she watched the figure do a subtle hand motion, followed by a bright light. A white light flashed in the figure’s hand, a sword magically appearing in their grip. The same cold shiver settled at the base of Wanda’s spine. 

The figure swiftly raises the sword as if to block themselves from something. She watched as the sword was met with brute strength, making it swing to the side forcefully. The figure backed up once more, before throwing an uncoordinated strike at something Wanda could not see.

Wanda tried focusing on whatever the figure was fighting, and suddenly the odd distortion, similar to the one at the crime scene, reemerged. The distortion was large, seeming to be at least three feet taller than the stranger they were pursuing. It moved swiftly, as it seemed to take a swipe at the stranger that stood in front of it, but the figure jumped out of the way just in time.

A low, bellowing sound resonated through the trees, but it sounded faint and far away. Wanda turned her head towards Natasha, “did you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Natasha looked at Wanda with furrowed brows.

“There was this sound, and there’s something, over there,” Wanda stammers through her words as she turns back to watch the figure. They swing their sword again, and this time, it looks like it made contact with the odd distortion.

“I don’t see anything,” Natasha replied, giving Wanda a confused look.

Wanda continued staring as the distortion seemed to rise and come crashing down over the figure.

They yelled as it fell on top of them, knocking them onto the ground forcefully, their weapon falling out of their grip and their hat falling off their head. Whatever was on top of them had them pinned down as they were struggling to get up. They placed their feet firmly on the ground, attempting to squirm out of the distortion's hold to no avail. They begin kicking up into the air, as if hoping to get the mostly invisible creature off of them.

Wanda hears as Natasha takes out her gun and sees her point it forwards. Her finger hovered over the trigger but did not shoot.  

The figure suddenly screamed in pain, but Wanda could not exactly see what was happening. She watches as they struggle to reach for their sword, the weapon a few inches away from their fingers. The figure still kicked their feet up onto the air, but the distortion would not budge from place. 

Another faint, bellowing noise was heard, followed by the figure’s pained groan. Wanda’s irises flash a dark red color as she extends her hand out, urging the sword to fly into the stranger’s hand.

The figure’s head turns towards the sword, before gripping it tight and stabbing it into the air above them and twisting the blade. The figure kicked up into the air once more with a forceful yell, digging their weapon deeper into the creature’s presumed wound.

Wanda hears the creature roar again, this time louder and clearer than the other times. For a split second, Wanda swears she saw something. An inky black mass that almost resembled a giant canine, but as quickly as she saw it, it disappeared. She almost assumes she imagined it.

The distortion seemed to bob upwards, no longer pinning down the stranger. They crawled backwards quickly, sword still in hand.

“Shoot,” Wanda said suddenly, glancing between Natasha and the odd display in front of them.

“Shoot what? I can’t see anything,” Natasha said, a mixture of confusion and frustration subtly ringing in her voice. 

“Straight forwards, about 5 feet over the suspect,” Wanda instructs, her eyes staring sharply at the scene before her. Natasha shot off two bullets and Wanda watched as the bullets disappeared into thin air. “Hit,” Wanda reports.

The figure jumped up to their feet, not looking back at the two Avengers that stood a couple of feet behind them. They slashed their sword twice into the distortion, and Wanda can only assume that they hit it.

The distortion moved and Wanda saw as it was about to come down on the stranger once more. They swung their sword upwards, the blade facing up to defend themselves from whatever was about to hit them.

The creature made an impact with the sword, the force strong enough to make the figure scream and buckle under the pressure. The same bellowing sound came again, this one louder than the one before. “Shoot, two feet above the suspect’s head,” Wanda commands, watching as the figure rightens themselves and backs up a few steps.

Natasha aims and takes a few seconds before shooting, taking the necessary precautions to not hit their only potential lead. 

She shoots off three more bullets, and Wanda sees as they ricochet off of the distorted creature. The stranger then charges, sword at the ready and seems to stab at the creature. They yell as they try digging the sword in deeper, and then forcefully drags the blade to the side. The figure did not stop until the blade no longer felt any resistance and cut freely through the air. A low, guttural sound reverberated through the forest and the distortion suddenly fell with a hard thud, the figure swiftly moving out of the way before impact.

The two Avengers watched as the figure breathed heavily, staring off into nothing. After a few moments, they groaned loudly, their free hand flying over to their shoulder, their sword in their other hand. Wanda could see as crimson began seeping through the stranger’s fingers. They turned and stared down at where Wanda last saw the distortion on the ground and nudged it with their foot. 

Oddly enough, Wanda could no longer see it, the ground and the trees of the forest remaining as still as ever. 

The figure continued to stare down at the ground, lowering their sword, the tip of the blade touching the dirt and leaves of the forest floor. With a sudden flash of white light, the figure drops the sword into the ground, the blade no longer visible. For the third time, a familiar cold shiver ripped through Wanda’s body.

The figure slowly turns and makes eye contact with Wanda and Natasha, fatigue evident in their face. They continued to breathe heavily as they stared. Without breaking eye contact, they extended their free hand off to the side and made a subtle circular motion. Once again, a bright flash appeared and both Avengers watched as the figure took one step to the side and dropped entirely from their view.

Natasha and Wanda looked at each other, before running up to where they last saw the stranger. Natasha bent down to the ground, running her hand over where the figure had been last, trying to find some explanation of how the stranger disappeared.

Wanda, in turn, approached where she last remembered seeing the distorted figure. She reached out and her hand came in contact with something. She startles and backs away slightly, not having expected to feel anything. 

She shakes her head, throwing away the nervousness and hesitation, before feeling around again. She feels it again, an odd, slimy, sticky texture that makes her grimace. “Natasha, there’s something here,” Wanda announces as she retracts her hand from the invisible creature. 

“What is it?” Natasha asks as she approaches the young brunette. “I-I don’t know, it’s sticky,” Wanda replies, cringing as she rubs her thumb over the rest of her fingers, still feeling the gross texture on her hand. She forcefully waves her hand downwards, trying to get any of the excess goop off of her hand.

“Today keeps getting stranger and stranger,” Natasha mutters, her brows furrowed together, having reached out with her index and middle finger to touch the invisible creature herself. 

“They left their hat behind,” Wanda comments as she notices the piece of clothing laying on the ground.

“We’re gonna need forensics over here,” Natasha announces as she backs away from it.

“And find that person with the sword,” Wanda adds. 

“I know just the right person who can help us with that,” Natasha replied as she pulled out a phone and made a call.

Chapter 2 →

[sleepy0s]

Such a strange man

Grian: “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy” I would. Pussy.

Grian: “I’m not gonna sink to their level” I will. Coward.

Grian: “I’m the bigger person” I’m 150cm tall give me the gun bitch.

GRAIANN

Hi guys :> Felt like being nice, have a long one! (Long for my standards lol)

1399  Words

~~~

Look, growing up on the streets does a lot to a man you know? Grian was never taught that ‘two wrongs don’t make a right’ No, no he was taught ‘You want something, take it.’. Like seriously, man has no morals.  Of Course... The hermits don’t actually know much about his past- Even Pearl HIS SISTER doesn’t know more than everyone else.

Most strangers look at Grian and see a cute, small avian who wouldn’t hurt a fly when in reality he is an eldritch being who grew up in mafias and will not hesitate to pull a gun on you. (Xisuma keeps trying to take them off him but he just keeps showing up with more???) This leads to some interesting experiences. For everyone else, not Grian.

The ‘first’ one.

~~~

It took Grian some time to open up when he joined hermitcraft (Yk, he had just spent the last couple of years locked in a cage in the end dimension lol) So, for the first month or three everyone assumed he was some nice parrot hybrid who was just shy. He didn’t talk in meetings and usually, you had to find him if you wanted to hang out. Even after he had come out of his shell he was still polite and kind (He is still kind but like, more open and friendly) 

Anyway, getting distracted. 

~~~

Xisuma had just finished talking about the important stuff, and everyone was chatting away. The hermits would probably stay in the meeting room for a while longer- the area was comfy.

Around half an hour into the hangout someone had pulled up a video on their comm of a server being destroyed whilst a player was still inside, which had become the current topic. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy..” Tango mumbled, the blaze hybrid looked horrified with one hand covering his face as he tried to look away.

Now, Grian had been on a server whilst it was being destroyed, multiple actually in his many attempts at escaping so he was fully aware of the agony and pain someone felt when being essentially erased from existence. He also had many enemies, which he would wish this upon, but his worst enemy? Without a doubt, Sam Gladiator. The bunny hybrid that had tortured his childhood, and god he would probably laugh if he got to watch Sam go through that torture.

Unknowingly, Grian had started laughing to himself just at the thought, which meant some people were looking at him weirdly. “Grian? Why are you laughing?” Xisuma asked.  

“Wha- nothing- nothing I was just imagining something.” He had stopped laughing but still had a smile on his face. “I would like- totally wish that upon my worst enemy.” He added simply, sitting up in his chair.

The trip to the main hub.

Some of the hermits had decided to go on a little trip to the main hub for shopping purposes. The small group included; Xisuma (He wasn’t letting them go off on their own.) Doc, Gem, Pearl, Scar and Grian. And it was going well. They each had budgets that they couldn’t go over and everyone had their own bags full of materials. 

They had been told to meet up at the portal at 3 pm, and it was currently 2:55, and the only person not at the portal was Pearl. Oh- wait no Xisuma can see her. The Moth hybrid was rushing down the street, trying to get to them on time. “I’m not late yet- I’m not late- Ouch!” She had run head first into some older-looking man, luckily she hadn’t dropped anything.

“I'm sorry- I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay?” She apologized, but when she looked up she was slightly shocked by the look on the man's face which was rage and disgust. “Ugh. Hybrids ruining everything, I'm going to be late for my meeting now because of you.” The man spat at her, before shoving her and causing her to drop everything.

Grian immediately ran over to his sister's side to help pick everything up, as with the others. “Are you just going to let him do that? Aren’t you going to do anything?” Grian asked as he handed her the stuff. 

“No, I’m not going to sink to his level,” Pearl responded, but it was obvious she was upset. And look, he knew his sister could handle herself but if she was too shy to stand up for herself in public then he would do it for her. That was one thing he had learnt growing up as a hybrid, if you want to be respected then you can’t play nice. “Grian- Don’t!”

It was too late, he had stormed up to the man and was tapping him on the shoulder.  “Sir? Sir. Sir!!!” He spoke, continuing to tap the man until he turned around. “What? I don’t have time for this.”

Grian didn’t look bothered by the man’s attitude, still smiling. “I would like you to apologize to my sister.” 

The man laughed, “You think you can get me to apologize? No.” And Grian’s attitude switched, kicking him in the crotch and grabbing his collar, his face emotionless as he stared into his eyes. “It wasn’t a question. Now, Apologize before I pull my gun out.” He whispered into his ear, before letting go of him.

“Yep- yep understood!” He whimpered, rushing over to Pearl and continuously bowing. “I’m sorry for using such language- are you okay? Please be okay or he might kill me.” 

The Intruder!

Hermitcraft is famous for being a very safe server, with some of the strongest protections. So, it’s very unlikely that someone can break in. Unlikely, but not impossible. 

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when they wake up at 2 am with their comms ringing alarms that there had been a breach in security and that they all had to go to spawn. So, all 25 or so hermits had met up at spawn. Grumpy, cold and tired. 

“Okay, so everyone is here yes?” Xisuma called out from the dirt pillar he had just built, “So.. uhm I’m not sure how to say this but there is an intruder on the server.” This, immediately caused an outburst among everyone, beginning to talk and whisper, despite Xisuma’s attempts to get everyone to listen

“SHUSH!” Doc screamed at the group, causing everyone to immediately go silent.

“Uh- thank you Doc.” Xisuma coughed, “So, we are all going to go into groups and find the intruder, thank you.”

The groups were decided quickly, and Xisuma ended up with Grian, Pearl, Scar and Mumbo. Everyone was on call, the comms acting as a radio. Xisuma’s group was near Grian’s base, walking through the trees behind the large rocks (Season 9) when Mumbo let out a yell. “Mumbo! What’s wrong- Oh.” Pearl ran over only to find Mumbo being held at gunpoint. 

Grian, immediately reached for his own gun only to find Xisuma holding it, “Grian, be the bigger person.” Now, Xisuma was probably about to shoot himself in the face because he had never held a gun before so it would probably be safer to give Grian the gun (God thought I’d never write that) But also, Grian is a tiny guy.

“Xisuma, respectfully I am 5 foot give me the bloody gun.” He responded calmly, in a hushed voice so the intruder wouldn’t notice that they also had a weapon. “It’s him or Mumbo X, what are you gonna choose?” 

“Oh god fine.” Grian really was very persuasive. The second the gun was back in his hands Grian was gone, completely disappeared into the trees.

“HAH! What are you gonna do? You call for help and I’ll shoot this... Strangely tall man.” The intruder threatened, seeming much too proud. “Now- I, Oh what do I want? I didn’t think I’d get this far..” Scar and Pearl had attempted to negotiate with the man.

“OH! I know- HEY!?” He didn’t get to put in his request as he got tackled from behind and didn’t have time to shoot Mumbo as he felt the cold feeling of a gun at his own neck.

Grian was sitting on top of the man, a scary smile on his face and a gun aimed at his neck and he genuinely looked excited at the chance he might get to shoot him. 

[in1-nutshell]

Hello, I have beeb following your account for some time and is one of my favorites, I am always looking forward for reading or rereading your content.

I would like to request for more dinobot buddy and Bumblebee please, maybe when they finally confesses or Bee being so oblivious that is almost painfully for the rest of the bots.

Thank you so much!

Thanks for the compliment! Happy to hear the positive things about my content.

Hope you enjoy!

Dinobot Buddy with a crush on Bumblebee: The pinning continues...

SFW, Platonic, Hinted Romance, Cybertronian reader

G1

Buddy as of lately began making ‘bolder moves’.

And by bolder moves, she was just making the same ‘moves’ but adding trinkets to the list.

She would find random things on patrol, on missions, or around the base and give them to Bumblebee.

The minibot now has a couple shelves dedicated to the trinkets because he doesn’t throw them out.

Primus help her if she finds him showing the trinkets off.

Bumblebee showing a couple of shiny rocks to Hound and Jazz. Bumblebee: “I just don’t know where she finds these things! Oh wait look at this one! She brought it in a couple of nights ago!” Buddy was walking by but stopped hearing the minibots voice. Bumblebee pulls out a rubber duck with little bee antennas: “Just look this!” Hound and Jazz look at the duck before seeing Buddy ‘hiding’ behind the corner with literal heart optics. She sighed quietly before practically skipping away. Jazz flashing Hound a knowing smile: “Yeah, sure is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?” Bumblebee nodding: “Yeah, it’s a pretty nice duck!” Hound raising his optic: “And what about Buddy? Are you going to get her something?” Bumblebee: “Well, yeah! The holiday’s are just around the corner. Anything for my best friend!” Jazz and Hound: “…”

There was also an increase in free Dino rides.

Sometimes he doesn’t even need to ask, Buddy would just go right by his side and either lay down by him or simply pick him up.

Buddy becomes extra protective when they have patrol or missions together.

Refuses to let him go too far from reach.

Bumblebee looking from the ledge of the cliff: “I think there’s something down there.” Buddy nervously looking at Bumblebee near the edge: “Bumblebee…” Spike on Bumblebee’s servo: “You think you can jump to the other side Bee?” Buddy looks horrified at the little human while the other bot started thinking. Bumblebee: “Hmm—HEY!” Buddy gently claps her jaws on his shoulder and yanks him back. The yellow minibot lands on his behind right by her side. Spike jumps from his servos. Bumblebee: “Buddy!” Buddy just sits down next to him, with her tail curled halfway around him: “You too close. You could fall.” She points with her tail to the ledge. Buddy: “Weak edge. Heavy autobot.” Bumblebee: “Huh, didn’t notice that. Thanks Buddy!” Spike: “Yeah thanks! We might have been pancakes if it weren’t for you!” Buddy puffs her chassis a bit and purrs a bit when Bumblebee pats her helm.

Most of the Autobot’s have two main drama’s.

The one they see on Teletran-one.

And Buddy’s love life.

The Dinobot team are banging their helms against the wall at their teammates attempt to court.

Grimlock is dying on the inside.

He truly respect’s his teammates boundaries and personal life… but even he has his limits when it comes to meddling.

Action needs to be taken.

Grimlock calls for an emergency meeting with the Autobots. Optimus: “Grimlock! Why have you called us here?” Ratchet: “What a minute, Buddy and Bumblebee are not here yet.” Grimlock: “Meets start now.” Prowl: “Grimlock why are we here?” Grimlock: "Me Grimlock tired of Buddy weak flirting. Autobots and Dinobot’s must act.” Wheeljack: “Did…did you just call an emergency meeting… because Buddy hasn’t confessed to Bumblebee yet?” Grimlock: “It was this or Me Grimlock going to get Doc bot to fix Buddy’s helm. It broken.” Ratchet sighing: “Grimlock, she isn’t broken—” Grimlock: “Then why she like this! It killing me Grimlock! It killing everybody!” Tracks: “Well, he isn’t wrong on the slow burn…” Hoist: “Tracks now it is not the time…” Huffer: “And how do we know Bumblebee feels the same way anyway? For all we know he just like her as a friend.” Swoop: “What if Bumble bot and Buddy go on date?” Mirage: “Like we set them up?” Wheeljack: “…That might work!” Powerglide: “I know plenty of places for a perfect date night! I’ll get them a place in no time!” Jazz turning to Blaster: “We can make a playlist for the two!” Blaster: “I already have ten songs picked out!” Grimlock: “Then we get ready! Autobot get Bumble bot and Dinobot get Buddy! Date night is a go!”

Optimus shakes his helm a bit but just watches the planning unfold.

Maybe a little help would do good for the pair…

[geneeste]

Creating a personal fanfic archive using Calibre, various Calibre plugins, Firefox Reader View, and an e-Reader / BookFusion / Calibre-Web

A few years ago I started getting serious about saving my favorite fic (or just any fic I enjoyed), since the Internet is sadly not actually always forever when it comes to fanfiction. Plus, I wanted a way to access fanfic offline when wifi wasn't available. Enter a personal fanfic archive!

There are lots of ways you can do this, but I thought I'd share my particular workflow in case it helps others get started. Often it's easier to build off someone else's workflow than to create your own!

Please note that this is for building an archive for private use -- always remember that it's bad form to publicly archive someone else's work without their explicit permission.

This is going to be long, so let's add a read more!

How to Build Your Own Personal Fanfic Archive

Step One: Install Calibre

Calibre is an incredibly powerful ebook management software that allows you to do a whole lot of stuff having to do with ebooks, such as convert almost any text-based file into an ebook and (often) vice-versa. It also allows you to easily side-load ebooks onto your personal e-reader of choice and manage the collection of ebooks on the device.

And because it's open source, developers have created a bunch of incredibly useful plugins to use with Calibre (including several we're going to talk about in the next step), which make saving and reading fanfiction super easy and fun.

But before we can do that, you need to download and install it. It's available for Windows, MacOS, Linux, and in a portable version.

Step Two: Download These Plugins

This guide would be about 100 pages long if I went into all of the plugins I love and use with Calibre, so we're just going to focus on the ones I use for saving and reading fanfiction. And since I'm trying to keep this from becoming a novel (lolsob), I'll just link to the documentation for most of these plugins, but if you run into trouble using them, just tag me in the notes or a comment and I'll be happy to write up some steps for using them.

Anyway, now that you've downloaded and installed Calibre, it's time to get some plugins! To do that, go to Preferences > Get plugins to enhance Calibre.

You'll see a pop-up with a table of a huge number of plugins. You can use the Filter by name: field in the upper right to search for the plugins below, one at a time.

Click on each plugin, then click Install. You'll be asked which toolbars to add the plugins to; for these, I keep the suggested locations (in the main toolbar & when a device is connected).

FanFicFare (here's also a great tutorial for using this plugin) EpubMerge (for creating anthologies from fic series) EbubSplit (for if you ever need to break up fic anthologies) Generate Cover (for creating simple artwork for downloaded fic) Manage Series (for managing fic series)

You'll have to restart Calibre for the plugins to run, so I usually wait to restart until I've installed the last plugin I want.

Take some time here to configure these plugins, especially FanFicFare. In the next step, I'll demonstrate a few of its features, but you might be confused if you haven't set it up yet! (Again, highly recommend that linked tutorial!)

Step Three: Get to Know FanFicFare (and to a lesser extent, Generate Cover)

FanFicFare is a free Calibre plugin that allows you to download fic in bulk, including all stories in a series as one work, adding them directly to Calibre so that that you can convert them to other formats or transfer them to your e-reader.

As with Calibre, FanFicFare has a lot of really cool features, but we're just going to focus on a few, since the docs above will show you most of them.

The features I use most often are: Download from URLs, Get Story URLs from Email, and Get Story URLs from Web Page.

Download from URLs let's you add a running list of URLs that you'd like FanFicFare to download and turn into ebooks for you. So, say, you have a bunch of fic from fanfic.net that you want to download. You can do that!

Now, in this case, I've already downloaded these (which FanFicFare detected), so I didn't update my library with the fic.

But I do have some updates to do from email, so let's try getting story URLs from email!

Woohoo, new fic! Calibre will detect when cover art is included in the downloaded file and use that, but at least one of these fic doesn't have cover art (which is the case for most of the fic I download). This is where Generate Cover comes in.

With Generate Cover, I can set the art, font, dimensions, and info content of the covers so that when I'm looking at the fic on my Kindle, I know right away what fic it is, what fandom it's from, and whether or not it's part of a series.

Okay, last thing from FanFicFare -- say I want to download all of the fic on a page, like in an author's profile on fanfic.net or all of the stories in a series. I can do that too with Get Story URLs from Web Page:

The thing I want to call out here is that I can specify whether the fic at this link are individual works or all part of an anthology, meaning if they're all works in the same series, I can download all stories as a single ebook by choosing For Anthology Epub.

Step Four: Using FireFox Reader View to Download Fic Outside of Archives

This is less common now thanks to AO3, but the elders among us may want to save fanfic that exists outside of archives on personal websites that either still exist or that exist only on the Internet Wayback Machine. FanFicFare is awesome and powerful, but it's not able to download fic from these kinds of sources, so we have to get creative.

I've done this in a couple of ways, none of which are entirely perfect, but the easiest way I've found thus far is by using Firefox's Reader View. Also, I don't think I discovered this -- I think I read about this on Tumblr, actually, although I can longer find the source (if you know it, please tell me so I can credit them!).

At any rate, open the fic in Firefox and then toggle on Reader View:

Toggling on Reader View strips all the HTML formatting from the page and presents the fic in the clean way you see in the preview below, which is more ideal for ebook formats.

To save this, go to the hamburger menu in the upper right of the browser and select Print, then switch to Print to PDF. You'll see the URL and some other stuff at the top and bottom of the pages; to remove that, scroll down until you see something like More settings... and uncheck Print headers and footers.

Click Save to download the resulting PDF, which you can then add to Calibre and convert to whichever format works best for your e-reader or archive method.

Step Five: Archiving (Choose Your Own Adventure)

Here's the really fun part: now that you know how to download your fave fanfics in bulk and hopefully have a nice little cache going, it's time to choose how you want to (privately) archive them!

I'm going to go through each option I've used in order of how easy it is to implement (and whether it costs additional money to use). I won't go too in depth about any of them, but I'm happy to do so in a separate post if anyone is interested.

Option 1: On Your Computer

If you're using Calibre to convert fanfic, then you're basically using your computer as your primary archive. This is a great option, because it carries no additional costs outside the original cost of acquiring your computer. It's also the simplest option, as it really doesn't require any advanced technical knowledge, just a willingness to tinker with Calibre and its plugins or to read how-to docs.

Calibre comes with a built-in e-book viewer that you can use to read the saved fic on your computer (just double-click on the fic in Calibre). You can also import it into your ebook app of choice (in most cases; this can get a little complicated just depending on how many fic you're working with and what OS you're on/app you're using).

If you choose this option, you may want to consider backing the fic up to a secondary location like an external hard drive or cloud storage. This may incur additional expense, but is likely still one of the more affordable options, since storage space is cheap and only getting cheaper, and text files tend to not be that big to begin with, even when there are a lot of them.

Option 2: On Your e-Reader

This is another great option, since this is what Calibre was built for! There are some really great, afforable e-readers out there nowadays, and Calibre supports most of them. Of course, this is a more expensive option because you have to acquire an e-reader in addition to a computer to run Calibre on, but if you already have an e-reader and haven't considered using it to read fanfic, boy are you in for a treat!

Option 3: In BookFusion

This is a really cool option that I discovered while tinkering with Calibre and used for about a year before I moved to a self-hosted option (see Option 4).

BookFusion is a web platform and an app (available on iOS and Android) that allows you to build your own ebook library and access it from anywhere, even when you're offline (it's the offline bit that really sold me). It has a Calibre plugin through which you can manage your ebook library very easily, including sorting your fanfic into easy-to-access bookshelves. You may or may not be able to share ebooks depending on your subscription, but only with family members.

Here's what the iOS app looks like:

The downside to BookFusion is that you'll need a subscription if you want to upload more than 10 ebooks. It's affordable(ish), ranging from $1.99 per month for a decent 5GB storage all the way to $9.99 for 100GB for power users. Yearly subs range from $18.99 to $95.99. (They say this is temporary, early bird pricing, but subscribing now locks you into this pricing forever.)

I would recommend this option if you have some cash to spare and you're really comfortable using Calibre or you're a nerd for making apps like BookFusion work. It works really well and is incredibly convenient once you get it set up (especially when you want to read on your phone or tablet offline), but even I, someone who works in tech support for a living, had some trouble with the initial sync and ended up duplicating every ebook in my BookFusion library, making for a very tedious cleanup session.

Option 4: On a Self-Hosted Server Using Calibre-Web

Do you enjoy unending confusion and frustration? Are you okay with throwing fistfuls of money down a well? Do you like putting in an incredible amount of work for something only you and maybe a few other people will ever actually use? If so, self-hosting Calibre-Web on your own personal server might be a good fit for you!

To be fair, this is likely an experience unique to me, because I am just technical enough to be a danger to myself. I can give a brief summary of how I did this, but I don't know nearly enough to explain to you how to do it.

Calibre-Web is a web app that works on top of Calibre, offering "a clean and intuitive interface for browsing, reading, and downloading eBooks."

I have a network-attached storage (NAS) server on which I run an instance of Calibre and Calibre-Web (through the miracle that is Docker). After the initial work of downloading all the fic I wanted to save and transferring it to the server, I'm now able to download all new fic pretty much via email thanks to FanFicFare, so updating my fic archive is mostly automated at this point.

If you're curious, this is what it looks like:

Pros: The interface is clean and intuitive, the ebook reader is fantastic. The Discover feature, in which you are given random books / fic to read, has turned out to be one feature worth all the irritation of setting up Calibre-Web. I can access, read, and download ebooks on any device, and I can even convert ebooks into another format using this interface. As I mentioned above, updating it with fic (and keeping the Docker container itself up to date) is relatively automated and easy now.

Cons: The server, in whichever form you choose, costs money. It is not cheap. If you're not extremely careful (and sometimes even if you are, like me) and a hard drive goes bad, you could lose data (and then you have to spend more money to replace said hard drive and time replacing said data). It is not easy to set up. You may, at various points in this journey, wish you could launch the server into the sun, Calibre-Web into the sun, or yourself into the sun.

Step Six: Profit!

That's it! I hope this was enough to get you moving towards archiving your favorite fanfic. Again, if there's anything here you'd like me to expand on, let me know! Obviously I'm a huge nerd about this stuff, and love talking about it.

[jadewolf22]

Agent Outcast Pt. 1

Fem!OC (Arania Northfire) x Larissa Weems 

Warnings: none for this part

Word Count: 999 

A/n: This is an old series I wrote over a year ago on my old account. Figured I'd repost what I have done so far and if people seem to like it I'll try to finish it.

Two weeks . . .  

That’s how long you had to choose a subject for Dr. Snow before Adrien gave him Larissa. Everyday you began to regret your decision more; your decision to agree to take this job, your decision to act upon your feelings for Larissa, your decision to join the Night Wolves those seventeen years ago, all of it. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t tell anyone; if Adrien had managed to find out what you were doing with Larissa he would certainly know if you told anyone. The only way to keep Adrien away from Larissa was to choose a student, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a child to a sadistic man like Dr. Snow; You were stuck. Man, did karma love being a bitch to you.  

As the days grew fewer and fewer your stress was beginning to show. You were temperamental and jumpy, even violent at times, your magic doing nothing to help as it reacted with your emotions. Larissa knew something was wrong and Adrien knew you were stalling, neither of which was a good thing. If you told Larissa she would throw you out of the school and Adrien would kill you, if you ran Adrien would harm Larissa; to say that you were screwed would be an understatement.  

“Ari?” a soft, angelic voice called, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned from the window to find Larissa watching you from her spot on the couch, “Are you alright?” “I’m fine,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “just a little tired.” “We both know this isn’t exhaustion, Ari,” Larissa said, standing, “You’ve been acting odd lately.” 

“I’m just stressed.” you said, looking out the window again as Larissa walked over to you. 

“Stressed about what?” Larissa pressed, gently grabbing your shoulder and turning you so that you could look at her. 

“Nothing.” you lied. Larissa narrowed her eyes, raising an eyebrow at you, indicating she didn’t believe you, so you added, “Nothing you need to worry about . . . Just some personal stuff. I can handle it.” 

This seemed to satisfy Larissa as she smiled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before returning to the couch and continuing her book. You silently released a breath you’d been holding, grabbing your jacket off of her desk.  

“I’m going into town. Have an errand to run.” you said, kissing the top of Larissa’s head as you walked towards the door, “Do you want anything?” “Just a coffee if you stop by the Weathervane.” Larissa smirked. 

“Double shot of espresso, two pumps of chocolate, right?” you asked, slipping your jacket on.  

Larissa nodded and you smiled, blowing her a kiss goodbye before stepping out of her office, walking down to tha main floor and out to your car.  

The ten minute drive to Jericho was, normally, very calming, but it seemed as if nothing could soothe the bundle of nerves forming in your stomach. Adrien and Dr. Snow were growing restless and, with only a week left, you were out of options. You drove straight through Jerico until you came to the abandoned warehouse just outside of town. You saw Adrien waiting for you so you parked, pocketing your switchblade before stepping out of your car.  

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show, Ari!” Adrien called as you walked up to him, “You had me worried!” 

“My bad.” you said flatly, your face void of emotion, “I don’t have a name, Adrien; I’m going to need this final week.” 

“The doc’s getting impatient,” Adrien warned in a soft tone, “He’s beginning to wonder if it would’ve been better for us to send Cassie . . . And I’m beginning to agree with him–” “I can do this job,” you insisted coldly, “There’s just too many options–” “More like, you don’t like any of the options.” Adrein growled, stepping forward so the two of you were nose to nose. Your body froze as he leaned forward, whispering in your ear, “Don’t forget . . . if you don’t give me a name by next Sunday the doc’ll be taking that pretty blonde of yours–” 

“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do!” you snarled, shoving Adrien away from you, “After this job, I’m out; you and the Night Wolves are out of my life.” “We’ll see,” Adrien hissed, rubbing his chest where you’d shoved him, “You’d best get going, Ari; you clock’s ticking.” 

“It’s Arania,” you growled, turning, slipping back into your car and driving off at an unsafe speed. 

You drove back into town and stopped at the Weathervane, deciding coffee would do you some good.  

“Evening, Miss. Northfire!” the barista shouted as you walked in, “Chie frappuccino, no whip, add caramel?” 

“Yes, please . . . As well as a double shot of espresso with two pumps of chocolate and two pumpkin spice muffins; to go, please.” you said, returning the barista's friendly smile. “$18.92, please.” 

You paid, stepping over to the pick up counter, talking with the barista as he worked.  

“So, what brought you into town? I saw you drive by earlier.” 

“ . . . Had to drop something off for a friend.” you lied as the barista handed you your coffee, “He lives just outside of town . . .” 

“So, how’s it going with the Nevermore Principal?” the barista asked with a snarky smile. 

You didn’t answer immediately, choking on your coffee as you processed what he’d just asked.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said dumbly as the barista handed you Larissa’s coffee. 

“Everyone in town knows the two of you are a thing,” the barista chuckled, “Plus, a double shot of espresso add two pumps of chocolate is her regular drink.”  

“Okay, okay, you got me–” you said, suddenly remembering the barista's first statement, “The whole town knows?! How?!” 

“People see you together all the time. The way you two act around each other makes it kinda obvious.” the barista said, handing you a small brown bag before turning to help the next customer.  

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 30)

WARNING: NSFW/Mentions of sex

A/N: AHH alright, so I'm kind of losing it. It's genuinely hard to believe that A Lion in the Garden is over, or at least plot wise anyways. Because yes, I am going to go back and edit, along with adding new chapters into the main plotline to help with pacing and all that, but this is the end of Lady Tyrell and Tywin’s story and it is honestly making me emotional. I started this story in late November, and in the last six months I’ve written about 170,000 words about these two, which is around 300 pages the way that I have it formatted in google docs. So, needless to say, this has been quite the journey for me and also for all of you who have been reading as I publish. And a giant thank you to everyone who’s shown support for my story, because even when I was busy or lacking motivation, knowing that there were at least a few people desperate for the next chapter made me keep working, and now I’m here. Anyways, with all that said, please enjoy the last chapter and know that I am so grateful for all my readers <3

—————

To finally be in the tower of the hand was a blessing. I had spent no less than three hours in the great hall, and if I’d been stuck there any longer I might’ve gone mad. Thankfully, Tywin knew me well enough to know that my patience was wearing thin, and had distracted a few lords so I could slip away. 

It was about 10:00 when I made it back to our chambers, and instantly I collapsed on one of the sofas in Tywin’s bedroom, removing my shoes with a sigh. I massaged my feet and ankles, tired after quite literally standing still for hours on end. If I had been walking the whole time it would’ve been fine, but it was like I had been stuck.

“King Tywin Lannister…” I muttered to myself, getting up from the sofa and going over to the mirror. I could’ve rang for Cerella, but it was late, and the last thing I wanted was to be rude. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could tolerate a conversation right now. All I wanted was to let my hair down, remove my gown, and fall asleep.

No, that wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted Tywin beside me too. 

But he probably wouldn’t have the chance to join me until much later, and I couldn’t wait for him. Sighing, I grabbed at the pins in my hair, taking them out and running my fingers through it afterwards. It had not relieved my headache as much as I had hoped. 

I reached backward then, watching myself in the mirror as I undid my dress. I suddenly wished that Tywin had dressed me in red this morning, for at least I could’ve felt connected to him that way. The entire day—though not purposefully, of course—he had been so distant, and now all I wanted was to feel like he was with me. 

My dress fell to the floor, and I undid the rest of my unnecessary undergarments with a sigh of relief. I turned to go towards the dresser and find a nightgown, but I noticed that one had already been laid out on a chair. I was unable to hold back a smile, grabbing my gown and other undergarments from the floor and folding them as neatly as I could. Cerella had known me well enough to understand that I wouldn’t want to speak to anybody at this hour, and so she had set out my nightgown in advance. Gods, I loved her. 

I set my clothes down on the chair, taking the nightgown in my hands once I had and slipping into it. I found that I dearly missed the warm nights that Tywin and I had spent nude, lazily sprawled out under the thin silk sheets. The nights had become colder, and soon the days would too. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the ravens came from the citadel. Then the blankets and furs on our bed would pile, and I would press myself closer against him. Perhaps that was not so unfortunate. 

I slipped into bed, pulling the blanket up to the bottom of my neck and finding a comfortable position. I settled into the mattress with a sigh, my head sinking into the pillow with a sort of relief. It was odd, however, to be falling asleep without Tywin by my side. The bed felt too light without him, and I wondered if I would be able to sleep without the sound of his breathing beside me. 

King Tywin Lannister.

Everytime I found myself drifting off, that came back to me. It was still such a shocking concept, and I wanted it to feel normal more than anything. For some reason, though, I simply couldn’t make it sound correct. Queen (Y/N) Tyrell. 

A small shiver went up my back, and I had to turn onto my other side in bed. I kept hoping for the sound of Tywin’s boots outside the door, but they would not come. It was almost funny to me, how much comfort was derived from a man that plenty of people considered an insufferable cunt. Myself included, let it be known. 

And yet still, I felt restless without him. I had a million questions to ask, and a million reassurances I wished to receive. Although, I guessed he was worse off than I was, probably surrounded by far too many noblemen… and noblewomen.

Now I was lying on my back, a sort of jealousy sparking in me and making my body go hot. Never before had I ever felt that somebody would try and disrupt my relationship with Tywin, but if he was to be king, surely the title of queen looked appealing to many ladies. Just as I was certain the concept of birthing little princes and princesses did.

Would Tywin want children now? His relationship with Tyrion had improved, yes, but would he go so far as to put him on the throne? I wondered if that was better or worse than Casterly Rock. But that was only for a moment, because the idea of heirs was most important. I knew for certain that the titles of prince and princess had not changed my feelings, but sometimes Tywin was hard to predict. Although, if I hadn’t been so tired and my head not so clouded, I would’ve known instantly that his opinion upon the subject had not changed.

Eventually, this train of thought became so tiring that it no longer made sense, and the words in my head were not coherent any longer, especially as I had turned back onto my side and closed my eyes once more. My breathing had begun to slow as well, and slowly but surely I drifted off.

In my dreams, I was on the battlefield. I somehow knew that Tywin was there, but I did not see him. The other odd thing was that it had been snowing, and it was somewhat reminiscent of Winterfell. It was unlike any battle I'd ever been in.

—————

Tywin was utterly exhausted. He had been in constant discussion ever since you’d left the hall, and it was now approaching 2:00 in the morning. He was making his way up the tower of the hand, already grasping at the top of his coat and undoing the clips. It was unlike him to undress anywhere besides his chambers, but gods he couldn’t help it. 

All he wanted was to slip into bed beside your warm body and hold you close, because just as you needed his support, he needed yours. He was not an overly emotional person, but he could admit that to feel you in his arms would relieve the unbearable amount of stress he had accumulated in the last 24 hours. He had single handedly made House Lannister the most powerful and placed them on the throne; it was truly a wonder. 

Tywin did not bother looking at the guards outside his door when he entered his office, he only pushed the door open with a slight sigh and carefully shut it behind him. It wouldn’t have been enough to wake you up regardless, but it was so quiet that he did not want to disturb the silence.

He fully shrugged off his coat now, draping it over his arm as he went towards the bedroom door. That one was handled carefully too, opened and closed as softly as was possible. There were a few dim candles lit, but overall the room was quite dark. He could see you, though, lying in bed with your face turned toward the door. 

The candles were behind you for the most part, and it gave your figure a pleasant outline. Although, your face was partly buried in the pillow, and an odd feeling of guilt ran through Tywin. Had you been crying? 

He took light steps across the room, placing his coat down on the same chair that you had left your gown. He sat down in another, reaching down to pull off his boots with a soft groan. Once he had done that, he untucked his shirt from his pants and then continued to strip. Tywin found his black robe in the dresser and promptly slipped it over his head, periodically looking over to make sure you were still asleep.

Entirely ready to sleep now, he approached your side of the bed. He lifted his hand to your face, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheek. It did not feel as though you had been crying, but it was impossible to tell. He felt the pillowcase too, and was reassured by the dryness there. No, you had not been crying. 

Quietly, Tywin made his way around the bed until he reached his side, carefully lifting the blankets and getting in with as little disruption as was possible. You seemed relatively undisturbed by the shifting of the mattress, and he knew he had not woken you. Tywin laid on his back with a quiet sigh, feeling utterly relieved to finally be in bed and alone. It felt like being alone, at least, for your company was never disruptive to him.

He had been drifting to sleep, but was suddenly startled by a jolting beside him. When Tywin opened his eyes, he saw you shake beside him. He moved to reach over and hold you, but you had shot straight up with a gasp, and he could see a sort of fear in your eyes.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” He asked, having to clear his throat as he sat up and placed his hands on your arms. You looked over at him—as if processing that he was there—and then nodded. Something had clearly started you. “A bad dream?” he questioned, gently cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead to his lips. 

“Yes, y-yes. It was just a bad dream,” you whispered in reply, swallowing. The way you said it gave the odd impression that you were trying to remind yourself of it, not that you were telling Tywin. He gave you a sympathetic look, though you did not notice.

“Come, sweet girl. Let us sleep,” Tywin whispered, slowly coaxing you back down to the mattress. He sighed out airily when you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He could feel your stress and uncertainty being relieved as you held him, and he could not keep himself from holding you with the same ferocity. 

Tywin clutched at you, wrapping his arms entirely around you and pressing you to his body as much as was physically possible. He knew he wouldn’t, but there was an odd desire in him to sob. He did not want to be the king, all he wanted was to remain here with you.

“Oh Tywin…” you muttered, inhaling his scent with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Your own scent was simultaneously giving him the same feeling. You had begun to nuzzle into him, too, much as a lion would. In response, his hand had come to your hair, cupping your head as one does for an infant. It had come from some sort of protective instinct, and even knowing that there was nothing to fear, Tywin would not let go. 

His queen.

With both of you feeling utterly at peace in each other's arms, it did not take long to fall asleep. You had drifted off first, and the sound of your tired breathing had sent Tywin to sleep right after you. He had been so glad to hold you, and perhaps even a bit happy that you were tired and disoriented, for you had asked no questions. Those would come in the morning, he knew. 

Tywin would happily answer them then, but for now, all he wanted was sleep. And with you wrapped up in his arms, that was no strenuous task at all.

—————

Tywin had woken up before me, though he had not left our bed. When I opened my eyes, I understood that I was cuddled against his chest. However, when I looked up at his face, he was already smiling down at me.

“Goodmorning, my dear,” he said, his voice a bit deeper and harsher than usual. He must’ve not been up for long. I smiled, adjusting myself and sitting up slightly before reaching over to kiss him. Tywin gave a soft hum against my lips, hand coming to my hair as he kissed me back. The mornings that he got to stay in bed with me were always the best ones.

“Goodmorning, Tywin. What time did you come to bed last night?” I questioned, laying back down and resting my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand lifting my nightgown, and then suddenly his warm palm against my hip. He loved to feel the skin there, for some odd reason. Though, I would never complain, for I loved it too.

“Far too late. I only managed to escape the great hall at 2:00. Your nightmare woke up just after I came to bed,” he said, resting his chin on my head. I furrowed my eyebrows, as I did not remember waking from my dreams. I had experienced a nightmare, yes, but waking up because of it? I certainly could not recall that. Well, it was of no importance.

“I see. If you’d really wanted to, you would’ve left much earlier,” I said, knowing him better than that. Tywin Lannister would never do something he didn’t want to. At least not something like that.

“It would have been inappropriate.”

“Oh yes, I’m certain.”

I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous my husband managed to be. I suspected not a man like him had ever lived, nor ever would again. It was almost comical, for Tywin Lannister was rarer than a dragon. 

“We have much to discuss,” Tywin said after a moment, instantly making my smile fade. I could hear in his voice that he similarly did not want to, but felt it necessary. He was right, of course. 

“Yes, we certainly do.”

“What’s most important to me, (Y/N), is that you’re alright. You shook during the ceremony yesterday. It’s all been somewhat overwhelming and sudden, hasn’t it?” He asked softly, one of his hands reaching for mine and holding it. I nodded, sighing out and glancing around the room. 

“I suppose I- well, I hadn’t even considered that you had a claim. For some reason, the only two I had suspected were Jaime and Tyrion, and when I heard men in the hall discussing that it ought to be you, it did shock me. But it’s not you being king which frightens me, it’s the idea of me being queen. I’m nothing like my sister in that regard,” I admitted, suddenly finding one of the tapestries on the wall to be the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. Tywin had it put up after our wedding, and I hadn’t really taken any appropriate amount of time to consider it. There was something so beautiful and erotic about the nude figures, and it was a perfect distraction from my embarrassment.

Tywin suddenly moved beside me, and I realized he wanted to get up from bed. I moved off him, sitting up and watching him quizzically as he went over to a drawer and rummaged around. When he seemingly did not find what he was looking for there, he left the room. I simply waited, absolutely puzzled as to what he was doing. I assumed that like always, he was trying to prove a point.

He came back in with a rather large, rolled up parchment in his hands. He set it down on the table, undoing it and then using books that were already on the table to keep it open. Tywin then turned around and motioned for me to come over. I did so, scooting off the edge of the bed and adjusting my nightgown as I walked over to him.

He had laid out a map on the table, and after a minute it clicked in my head. It was a map of King’s Landing. I raised both eyebrows at him as a signal to explain, knowing he was going to come to a point eventually. 

“As you are aware, the smallfolk of King’s Landing are not entirely fond of me. If I’m to be their king, my reforms must actually have a directly positive impact on their lives. Tell me, how do I improve a city ripe with crime, disease, overcrowding, and homelessness?” Tywin questioned, gesturing to the map he had laid out. I let out a breath that was almost a laugh, feeling that the question was impossible. Staring at the map was not helping me any.

“You cannot improve all of those things single handedly, Tywin. Therefore, I cannot possibly have any ideas that would do such a thing,” I said, knowing that we needed to be realistic in this instance. He still hadn’t come to his point yet, and it was irking me. 

“It’s not single handedly, I have you. But even if I didn’t, that’s not what I mean. Give me a solution to just one of those problems, please,” he said, gazing down at me with a sort of twinkle in his eye. Where was he going with this? I looked at him hesitantly for a moment, but when all I received was an expectant look I knew he was serious.

With a sigh, I turned my eyes to the map once more. Gods, the layout of Kings Landing was absolutely horrendous. It was no wonder that overcrowding was a problem just based on the way that everything was structured. And of course, overcrowding led to disease, so I supposed a solution to the overcrowding would perhaps help that as well. The idea came to me then.

“Tywin, where was Tommen’s carriage destroyed?” I asked, turning to my husband for a moment. His expression was blank, but he pointed down to a certain street on the map.

“Right around here.”

“Well surely that much wildfire must’ve destroyed some of the street and the buildings around it, right?” I questioned, feeling that it must’ve been a completely logical assumption.

“Correct. I was told that these complexes here are practically ruins now, and several of the common folk in them were either seriously injured or killed,” Tywin informed, making my heart sink a bit. To think a religious order had caused such suffering.

“I see. We ought to make sure their families are provided for at the very least, and given reassurances that the sparrows will be held responsible,” I muttered, hearing Tywin give a hum of approval beside me.

“I’ll have Varys see to that.”

“Perhaps I ought to go with him. It will appear more genuine that way. Plus, then I can inspect the site myself. The problem with Kings Landing is that it wasn't built with any particular layout, but if we can slowly rebuild with a more thought out design, then it would be able to more adequately house the smallfolk, and if there’s less overcrowding, that also means less ability for disease to spread. Sickness is bound to spread in large cities, but if we could limit the amount of families living in one house, that ought to help,” I reasoned, continually looking down at the sheet before me and trying to formulate some kind of design in my head based off of what I knew about Highgarden’s layout. Though, King’s Landing was admittedly a much different space.

“And how do you propose we go about building such a thing? To redesign and rebuild the entire city is quite a hefty task. It would displace many,” Tywin pointed out, though I shook my head in disagreement.

“Not if we do it slowly. We could also use the sept to house people, there aren’t any more nobles in need of a marriage that grand so far as I’m concerned. And as we carry it out, we could also hire the smallfolk to help build. It would improve our economy significantly and reduce the amount of unemployed and homeless, especially because the new layout would ideally use the space available most efficiently. I’m no architect or city planner, but I’m certain we could find somebody from the citadel who would be more than helpful with that matter. We ought to focus on agriculture as well, especially with the upcoming winter. It will remain relatively warm enough to plant certain crops, and it would certainly relieve a burden off of Highgarden. Plus, the more jobs available the better,” I rambled, thinking of the endless benefits that redesigning and rebuilding King’s Landing would have. If we could execute it correctly, which I was certain we could, it would be infinitely useful.

When Tywin said nothing, I looked over my shoulder at him. I had leaned over the table subconsciously, both hands spread on the map like I was planning for battle. My husband was smiling rather fondly, and I raised a curious eyebrow. What on earth was making him grin like such a fool?

“A few years ago, (Y/N), when I saw you for the first time since you were 14, I had not a clue what to expect. For a moment, I thought you had remained as immature as you were as a young girl, but you quickly proved me wrong. You had leaned over my table then, just as you are now, and told me that we would be stupid to go through that ravine, because if Stannis sent men in another direction and they realized we were coming, we would’ve been easy to repel. You were admittedly correct, and I understood that you were no longer an inexperienced child. Now you stand here, telling me exactly how we ought to earn the respect of the smallfolk and more than that, how it will be beneficial for all involved. You underestimate yourself, (Y/N), and of all my concerns, you being a good queen is not one of them. You have always been a leader, that won’t change just because the title sounds more intimidating,” Tywin explained, stepping toward me and cupping my face in his hands. My lips parted as I stared up at him, my heart somehow pounding in my chest at the sentiment he was expressing. There was something so indescribable about the way that Tywin managed to reassure me, and I often wondered how it was possible. 

I reached for the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer to me and lifting my head up to show him I wished for a kiss. He chuckled softly, moving his hands from my face and grabbing my hips instead. Tywin bent down, pressing his lips to mine with a noise of satisfaction.

“You’re far too good at that,” I whispered when he pulled away, making his eyebrow raise.

“What, kissing you?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But I meant that you’re far too good at reassuring me. I’m always in my head and you always know how to pull me out,” I said with a smile, unable to look away from my husband for even a moment. Even after all this time I was still so smitten with him.

“It’s because you often do the same for me, even if you don’t realize it,” he remarked with a kiss to my forehead. 

“And speaking of, well, reassurances… the subject of succession, your succession, I mean… do you- are you still firm on the subject of children?” I asked, knowing that was one of the other things I needed to discuss with him.

“Yes, I am. Why? Has the prospect of them being a prince or princess changed your opinion on it?” He questioned in reply, a certain hesitation in his voice as he asked it, almost as if hoping that mentioning he hadn’t changed his mind wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

“No! Gods, no. I just- I wasn’t sure if… well I don’t know. Your relationship with Tyrion has certainly improved, but I didn’t have a clue if it had improved enough to make you give him the throne. You were already unsure about giving him Casterly Rock,” I pointed out, watching him nod as he listened to what I was saying. He was contemplative. 

“Casterly Rock must have prestige associated with it. Jaime is no ruler, but he would not make the Lannister name an embarrassment. To have Tyrion there, whoring and drinking constantly, would be a problem. The throne has no obligations, it is expected for kings to drink and whore. Tyrion will get the throne once I am gone, and I feel quite certain he will rule far better than most,” Tywin explained, one of his hands holding mine and the other on the table, gently tapping against the wood. He quite frequently fidgeted with his fingers, I realized. I wondered if somehow it helped him process his thoughts.

“I see. That’s easily settled then,” I remarked, somewhat glad it had been resolved so easily. I had expected a much longer conversation, but I was quite satisfied. Tyrion would be a good king.

“Yes, it is.”

I thought for a moment more, and then an insecurity from the previous night came back to me. I found myself looking down, not wanting to see Tywin’s reaction as I said what was on my mind.

“You’re correct, Tywin. Kings certainly are expected to whore, drink, and hunt,” I mumbled, feeling insanely uncomfortable with the jealousy I was experiencing. Surely every woman in the seven kingdoms would be throwing herself at him now. 

“(Y/N), a crown is not suddenly going to transform me. Just like any other man, I have been with whores, and I have enjoyed them, but you are my wife. I had no need to marry you, House Tyrell was already firmly tied to House Lannister. I married you because I love you, and that means I have no intentions of being unfaithful. I would hang any woman who tried to flirt with me, because I will not see our marriage insulted that way. Rest assured that you are the only woman I want, and that is not going to change just because they decided to put me on the throne,” Tywin assured me, hand coming under my chin and forcing me to look at him. He was entirely genuine, I could see it in his eyes. In all honesty, I knew everything he said was true before he had even bothered to open his mouth, but somehow hearing it outloud brought such relief. 

“I merely hate the thought of women looking at you with desire.”

“And now you understand how I feel. Perhaps you’ll stop teasing so much when I get possessive.”

I laughed then, shaking my head and embracing Tywin. There was always something so lovely about knowing I was the only person with whom he acted this way. His hands were on my hips again, and when he gave them a slight squeeze I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“And believe me, none of those whores are anything like you. It left me rather unsatisfied,” he whispered, which had initially been what I expected. Then I was given quite the surprise.

“Unsatisfied?” I questioned, wondering if he was insinuating what I thought he was. He observed me for a second, as though he were debating whether or not he ought to admit something.

“About two years ago, when you left to go make negotiations with Robb Stark, I sent a description to the brothel. At that point, I was unaware that you returned my feelings. We hadn’t even kissed yet, but you were driving me mad. It was impulsive of me to do, and I felt incredibly guilty afterwards… but I- well, I couldn’t even finish with her. From behind, she certainly looked similar. Your same height, hair color, skin tone… but she wasn’t anything like you. She did not hold herself with any confidence, the sound of her voice was wrong. She did not moan how you would’ve, and when I leaned down her scent was nothing like yours. That’s when I had to stop. I paid her and asked her to leave. She wasn’t you…” he said, revealing what was probably the most shocking thing I had ever heard him say. I was trying to process my feelings, but in all honesty I had no idea what to feel. How are you supposed to feel about learning that a man fucked a whore with you in mind? More than anything, I was just surprised. I hadn’t even considered that Tywin desired me at that point in time.

“Tywin…” I whispered, not sure what else to say. It was the only thing that would escape my throat. Should I be offended that he had done it? Should I be flattered? There certainly was something erotic about the idea that I had driven him so mad with lust he had gone so far as to find a whore that looked like me. But at the same time, I hated the idea of him fucking another woman. He was mine. Although, as he had said, that was exactly why he’d stopped. She wasn’t me.

“You had been in my room in the last day or two. We had discussed something, I don’t remember what, but you had sat on my bed. You’d been fidgeting with the lace on one of the pillows, I remember that much. You left your scent on it, and that night… when I realized…” he trailed off, and it seemed that just the memory of it had sparked lust in him. I swallowed, instantly understanding. Yes, I was decided. That was utterly erotic.

Suddenly I was picturing Tywin naked, laying in bed that night with a sort of disappointment that the whore had not fulfilled his desire for me. I imagined him turning over and suddenly inhaling a familiar scent. He would flare his nostrils a few times, discovering that something smelled just like me. He would check the pillows around him, and then he would find the one that I had left my perfume on. Tywin would proceed to inhale deeply, and the lust would spark in him again. He’d reach down, touching himself as the scent consumed him entirely and he shut his eyes.

I came back to the present after picturing that, and I felt the heat in my cheeks. To think of Tywin in such a context was entirely new, but I found that I liked it.

“Until that night, I hadn’t been with a whore since weeks before the Battle of Blackwater. Once I had spoken to you again, (Y/N), you became my only desire. You called me an insufferable cunt, fine, I would prove you otherwise. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing, and what had piqued my interest was that I knew you did not mean it just to be insulting, it was genuinely what you thought of me. When I wasn’t working, I was thinking of you. And when those thoughts became different in their nature, I did what I thought would satisfy the urge. No. No, it most certainly did not. I couldn’t have anything less than you, I discovered. Nothing ever has and nothing ever will compare to you, (Y/N).”

I felt my heart pounding with his words, so overwhelming was the love inside of me. Suddenly I could not keep myself off of my husband. I instantly kissed him, grabbing at his hair and moaning into his mouth. He did the same in response, and every touch was so raw and genuine. He lifted me from the ground then, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as he took me over to the bed.

He sat me on the edge of the mattress, standing between my legs as his lips grasped at mine. Gods, it wasn’t even 9:00 yet and we were already like this. His hands had come to my thighs, and he had to pull away for a moment, absolutely breathless.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…” he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine. I cupped his cheeks, swallowing and catching my own breath.

“I love you, Tywin… I love you so much,” I whispered, smiling slightly and looking into his eyes. He also smiled softly, removing his hands from my thighs and embracing me instead. It seemed that we were both equally emotional and lust-filled. 

“I love you far more than I ought to, (Y/N). My queen… my Nightshade of the Garden… my wife,” he said softly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed me again, softer this time. I responded the exact same way.

It was an interesting thought, that I truly had no idea what would come next for us. I found that I did not care, for it did not matter. Tywin and I would continue on, just as we always did.

—————

“You look very handsome, your grace. The sash fits well.”

“It’s not your grace just yet, Cerella. And he does look handsome, even if perhaps a bit gloomy.”

I was fixing up Tywin’s outfit for the coronation, and he had decided on his black coat with the lions on the shoulders. On top of that, I had fixed a golden sash around his torso, as I was trying to prevent him from looking too plain. 

“I do not appreciate your jokes,” Tywin mumbled, which only made me smile even more as I adjusted his belt. He was simply so easy to tease.

“Have you ever considered taking the black, husband? I feel confident they would allow you to keep your wardrobe,” I jested further, finally stepping away from him and feeling satisfied with his appearance. Cerella had brought in my own dress and was presently waiting for me to strip out of my nightgown. 

“Ha! If I did, it would leave you begging,” he replied snarkily, only continuing to grin when I smacked his arm. 

“Do you hear him, Cerella? My husband is surely the most insufferable cunt in all seven kingdoms,” I scoffed, undoing some of the lace on my nightgown and pulling it over my head. My undergarments had followed, of course, and Tywin had pretended not to notice my nudity as he ran a hand over his hair in the mirror. 

“Here, my lady,” Cerella replied, handing me a fresh set to put on. She had not addressed my claim, but was smiling in a way that told me she appreciated the joke. I supposed that after serving the two of us for so long, she’d been forced to become accustomed to our constant teasing and yapping.

I pulled on the clean undergarments, and I held still as she assisted me with the lacing of my stay. After that came my gown, of course, which was a deep scarlet red. The top had minimal gold and white detail, for on top of my dress I was wearing a beautiful porcelain corset. It had absolute gorgeous ornamentation, with perfected gold detailing along the edges and roses painted on it. It had been a gift for my 24th name day, and I hadn’t found an occasion for it until now.

“You look absolutely stunning, my lady,” Cerella said as she helped me put it on. I smiled at her for a moment, and then I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. It certainly was quite the sight. Cerella had done my hair beforehand too, wanting to make sure that everything would stay in place. 

“Yes, she does. You’re breathtaking, wife,” Tywin noted, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my hips, just below the corset. I hadn’t even realized he was watching, in all honesty.

“Well, my husband is being made into the king of all seven kingdoms today. If that isn’t a good occasion to be wearing this, I don’t know what is,” I remarked, watching Cerella step back and take my dirty nightclothes out. Tywin and I were left alone after a moment.

“I have something to give you, (Y/N). I’m not certain what jewelry you were planning to wear, but I think you ought to consider this.”

I watched him retrieve a flat, square box from his dresser with a small smirk on his face. I was suspicious of him, just as I always was. Tywin brought it over to me, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. Carefully, he opened the case and revealed an absolutely stunning necklace. It made me gape, and I quite honestly had no clue what to say in reply.

“What do you think?” he questioned, lifting his gaze from the jewelry up to me. I managed to avert my eyes too, though with quite some difficulty.

“It’s gorgeous, Tywin. Would you- would you help me put it on?” I asked softly, watching the satisfaction settle in his eyes. He said nothing, but nodded and motioned for me to turn around. I did so, watching him move around in the mirror and remove the necklace from its case. I adjusted my hair as he came up behind me, and I could feel his breath against my ear as he hung the thing from my neck. I felt the gentle clasp of it, and he carefully removed his hands. For such a gorgeous, detailed necklace, it was not nearly as heavy as I had suspected. I put my hair back in place with a sort of entrancement.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Tywin said after a moment, still standing right behind me and admiring my reflection. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around my waist and let his head lean against mine. 

“I think this would look beautiful on anyone, Tywin. Maybe even on you,” I jested, though there was no humor in my voice. Something about seeing myself this way was shocking, and I could not tear my eyes away. I looked like a queen.

“No, I doubt that. I had it specifically made for you, the measurements are specific. You are the only woman who’s ever been meant to wear it,” he said, his voice low and clear. I placed my hands on top of his, swallowing and then letting my lips part with a sort of overwhelmed feeling.

“I wonder, Tywin, if you will ever stop spoiling me like a child,” I remarked, finally looking at him. As well as I could, anyways, for our faces were rather close. 

“I have never spoiled you like a child. I have spoiled you like a wife—as you deserve,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against my neck. I leaned into him, a sort of warmth filling me. To think this man had been my worst enemy a few years ago was incredibly odd, for now he was the most important person in my life. To think that a cut, a sword, and a set of armor might’ve changed my life forever.

There was a knock at our door which I recognized as Cerella’s, and I knew it must be time for us to leave. I moved myself from Tywin’s grasp, though I took his arm once I had. From there, we made our way out of the tower of the hand and down to the throne room. The walk was quiet, but the entire time Tywin kept me close. Occasionally, he would look over at me and hold my gaze for a few moments before looking away. I wondered if perhaps he was trying to make sure I was still there, as stupid as that sounded. 

When we reached the double doors, I felt him take a deep breath and noticed his gaze set firmly on the wood in front of us. I pressed my lips together, blinking a few times as I debated whether or not I should ask him how he was doing. I decided it would do little harm.

“Are you alright, Tywin?”

“Of course.”

It was kurt, and perhaps a bit sharper than he had intended. He was stressed, I understood. He was not easily made this way, either, and I felt awful. The man standing beside me was not only Tywin, he was the king. In this moment, the second identity had to be worn.

“I did not mean to use such a tone,” he said after a minute or so, finally looking at me. There was the husband again. 

“It’s alright, Tywin. You don’t need to apologize. Not today,” I whispered, giving him a sympathetic look. A sort of relief settled in his face, as though he was at least glad I was not upset by what he had said. I had learned Tywin well enough to know it was not truly him.

Slowly, the double doors were pulled open and the two of us were shown to the entire court. My heart skipped a beat, as if I was suddenly processing that we both were on public display. With a swallow, I stepped forward in sync with Tywin, looking straight ahead in spite of my nerves and desire to observe every face. Margaery would inform me of looks afterwards, I was certain.

There was a silence in the room as Tywin and I walked through the isle, heading straight up to the throne. It was almost like a moment of peace, a moment of time that nobody else existed in. I found that I could not resist the urge to look at Tywin, and even despite his appearance as king today, he looked back at me. Oh, and those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes with their green flecks. I loved this man so much.

We reached the platform then, and together we ascended up the steps. I made eye contact with Kevan, who Tywin had chosen as Hand of the King, for he never wanted politics to cause strife in our marriage. Although, both of us were aware that I would continue to be his most trusted source of guidance and advice. And, it was a good thing Kevan was hand too, for I did not want to relinquish our chambers in the tower and he had no problem whatsoever taking the kings instead. The bed was bigger in there, but Tywin and I had no problem sleeping close together.

It was Kevan who I had expected to stand beside at the ceremony, too, but Tywin did not drop his arm. With an open mouth, I found myself standing in front of the throne with him, and there was a smug look on his face.

“Let them see that the queen has every bit of power that the king does. Your title is owed a crown,” he whispered before we turned around to look upon the crowd. I was still somewhat shocked, but I did not let it show as we faced everyone. 

Tywin’s arm detached from mine then, but he then opted to grab my hand instead. He was certainly full of surprises today, and I could not keep myself from giving a subtle smile when his hand squeezed mine.

The high septon was behind us, and once Tywin and I had settled in, he began with the ceremonials. I—in all honesty—was not listening to what he was saying whatsoever. Tywin had been running his thumb up and down the side of my hand for the last several minutes, and that was all I could focus on. That and the two crowns I had noticed in the corner of my eye. One was much larger, and had the face of a lion upon it. The other was about the size of my head, and was covered in thorns and roses. 

The high septon had been going on about the seven blessing and guiding Tywin for at least 10 minutes now, and I hadn’t really processed what was being said until I was mentioned. It was not something that had ever been said in a coronation before, at least as far as I was concerned, and Tywin had given me the most fulfilled of looks when he’d heard it. 

“And may his lady wife support him in all his endeavors and be a pillar of strength in the crown. May she show love, compassion, and kindness to all in the kingdoms, and lead just as bravely as the man beside her. The Queen (Y/N) Tyrell, long may she reign,” he said, placing the golden crown of roses atop my head. Its weight was pleasant, and the echo of ‘long may she reign’ from everyone in the hall sent a slight shiver up my spine. Tywin squeezed my hand once more.

After that, the High Septon moved on to Tywin, and I was unable to remove my eyes from my husband. He looked every bit the king, standing tall with his perfect posture and elegant coat. The High Septon held the crown above his head, and with a shout of ‘long may he reign,’ it was placed upon his head.

“Long may he reign,” I repeated with the rest of the crowd, smiling at the sight of the golden lion upon Tywin’s white hair. It matched the blonde strands that remained on the edges of his head and his cheeks. 

Loud applause filled the room for King Tywin, first of his name, and I experienced the sort of feeling that one gets before battle. The feeling of rallying your men, of hearing them cheer as they prepare to die for you. Would these men fight for my husband? Would they die for him? I would. 

Tywin looked over at me then, and when our eyes met I knew everything would be alright, somehow. There were trials to come, I knew, but it was impossible to feel frightened when the man beside me was looking at me the way he was. Tywin and I had faced everything together for the last few years, and I had no doubt in my mind that we would continue to do so now.

“My Queen,” Tywin muttered, lifting our hands and kissing the back of mine. It was as if he had forgotten everyone in the hall was there, even as their applause continued to ring in our ears. I smiled even more now, looking up at my husband with utter adoration. Every choice I’d made in my life had been the right one, for I could not imagine living without this man. The Great Lion of the Rock and the Nightshade of the Garden. 

Tywin Lannister, I could say confidently, was the most important thing in my life. The man I trusted, guided, received guidance from. But most importantly he was the man I loved. They said that Westeros had not seen a match such as ours in centuries, if ever. And standing beside Tywin in front of the throne, his hand in mine and our eyes stuck on each other, I had the odd sensation that they never would again. For how could they?

I could not imagine another tale such as ours, with the hatred of him in my youth turning to eventual friendship in my adulthood, and then that friendship eventually turning to love. Tywin and I had fought wars together, settled conflict together, and kept all seven kingdoms intact together. What other couple could boast that? None. None could. There were no couples like us. There were no people like us. There was only us.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Tywin’s hand at my waist, and I realized that he was pulling me towards him. Before all present in the hall, he kissed me. Tywin was passionate, and yet simultaneously loving. I could not resist the urge to smile as I kissed back, the sensation of his familiar lips causing a wave of utter contentment to wash over me. A sense of peace. When Tywin pulled away, he smiled at me. It wasn’t even a small smile, it was genuine and raw. And I could see in his eyes, it was not the crown atop his head that had made him smile. It had been me, standing right beside him as the High Septon had placed it atop his head. I kissed him once more, with not a single care as I did so.

For they would never see our like again.

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[scottfreed]

Comparing the Text of the "TANGLED: Before the Ever After SERIES BIBLE" and the "Tangled The Series: Series BIBLE"

I wanted to compare the text from the two Tangled bibles from the Disney leaks since there seemed to be a lot of overlap in the language and I was interested to see what had changed between the initial BEA bible(2015) and the TTS series bible(2018).

I'm in the asoiaf fandom and we do this with old George RR Martian drafts and manuscripts all the time, a sort of literary archeology. I took the plain text of both documents and ran a comparison to see what had changed between the two bibles. ((My dumbass put the 2018 TTS document as the original and the 2015 BEA doc as the "modified" one. So the Struck through text is actually the older/original/BEA.))

So obviously, the TTS bible was far longer since it was created and modified far later into development and even after wrap. It encompasses waaay more material. So naturally, all the S2 material outside if a brief synopsis was not in the BEA.

S1 Characters that do not appear in the 2015 BEA bible, but do in the 2018 TTS bible include: Angry, Red, Sugarby, Monty(even though his episode was), WRECK MARAUDER (Same as Monty), Fidella, and surprisingly: Stan and Pete.

And most surprising of all: the Captain didn't have a character profile in that initial document even though I could swear he has more episodes than characters like Lance, Varian, Quirin, and Xavier who all do have profiles in the 2015 BEA one.

I wonder if this indicates the order in which the characters were developed, or if they had different initial plans to use certain characters with more frequency and that didn't work out.

And as I sort of mentioned, in the BEA document, there were only summaries of six episodes after the special; "Challenge of the Brave," "Rapunzel's Enemy," "Cassandra Vs. Eugene," "In Like Flynn," "Under Wraps," and ""Fitzherbert PI."

It's fascinating to me how most of these are Cass and Eugene focused eps, with only one truly Raps focused one.

Anyway...

First big difference in the text:

By far the most common and consistent change between versions was Cassandra's job.

In 2015 in the Before Ever After pitch, she was consistently referred to as a "handmaiden" and then as of the 2018 TTS series bible this was changed everywhere to "lady in waiting".

I always wondered about this shift. At first I wondered if the change was to distance the show from the wildly successful, but thematically dark/adult "Handmaid's Tale" which came out within like a month of TTS, but now I'm wondering if it was more to align her thematically with her later characterization of "the Lady in waiting who is sick of waiting." It's probably that latter option. But I did kind of prefer the handmaiden angle since a lady in waiting is still comparatively powerful nobility. And imo a "maid" taking on a Kingdom is way more sympathetic than a lady doing so. It could have just added that extra layer of class conflict, but oh well.

No matter the reason, "Handmaiden" is out, "Lady in waiting" is in!

Attila got a little fleshing out between versions! Though this never seemed to materialize. I almost wonder if someone needed to hit a word-limit or something. I would have liked to see an ep showing Attila more and more integrated into Coronan society. See his progress from S1 to S3.

It seems the decision to have the full entourage outside of the main three on the mission might have been a later addition. (Alternatively the 2015 bible might have just had need to be more short and concise with the S2 details.)

It did seem(unfortunately) like the spare 5 didn't contribute much to the overarching plot, so I wouldn't be surprised if that were true. (And I'm including the Hookfoot filler episodes with that.) It would have looked pretty different, but might have been more character focused if they had gone in that direction.

Seems the Lorb episode was originally REALLY different...

The idea of them being mythical leaf people was a later addition, as well as the island aspect of the setting.

And it looked like the human "distinct tribe of people" were originally going to be worshiping Rapunzel and not Pascal. I can certainly see why they changed this so much.

It would be hard for Raps to beat the Demigoddess allegations and maintain the everyman vibe, plus the God Guise/Cargo Cult tropes are awkward as hell in that context.

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?????

..... Brotherhood fans btfo, its so over, we will literally never recover from this. *passes away*

No but really, no distinct mention of Adira or someone in her role. I wonder if the idea of discord/disagreement among the Brotherhood members didn't come about until later.

This is pretty cool! I didn't know that "Plus Est En Vous" seemed to be the initial name for the special! Then it got changed and used for the finale.

It also looks like "Cassandra vs. Eugene" was a pretty different episode initially as well.

It looks like originally, the scavenger hunt was not intended to lock them in the dungeons, and the Stabbingtons weren't involved.

I'm kind of of two minds on this one since on the one hand I like when decisions are deliberate and not just a matter of coincidence gives the characters agency. Plus I like the Stabbington's as villains and was glad to see them. But on the other hand, Rapunzel locking people in a cell when being locked away against her will is so central to her character and no one ever calling her out for it was so off-putting to me. Plus it made the Stabbingtons much less threatening.

I almost want to see that original version of that ep. I wonder if it would have been more character-focused.

And the last little changes I noticed were to "In Like Flynn" where they changed the word "crime" to "scheme" in the description and dropped the "King" for just "Frederic" probably just to convey the lighter tone of the episode better.

Oh, and one more!

The "Moonstone" didn't seem to be named as of BEA and there was some intentional(?) ambiguity about Edmond and his title and origin.

Overall not a lot of big differences. But it was a bit surprising what elements and characters where emphasized compared to what ended up manifesting in the show.

[allatseapod]

Meet the crew!

Look what the tide washed in!

Noah (they/them) is the writer of All At Sea and the voice of February. They're currently in the process of completing their MA in English Literature, which focuses on the importance of the found family trope in queer, POC-led narratives. When they're not drowning in books or literary analysis, you can find them staring blearily at a blank Word Doc, or drowning in all the different audio dramas they still need to listen to.

Scotchy @secondhand-coelacanth (any pronouns) is a producer of All At Sea and the voice of Sturgeon. They found their passion for podcasting through working on The Hermit Archives as an editor and minor character, and can't wait to bring more sounds and noises right to your eardrums. When he isn't splicing voice lines for enrichment, or surviving the horrors of academia, Scotchy can be found making music, crocheting, or fishing around for a new hobby to try out.

Louis Wolf @louis-dc (he/they) is a producer of All At Sea, he is a disabled artist/actor based in Colorado. Doing theatre in high school helped to reveal his passion for storytelling, specifically with acting and directing. This has fed in well to a love of dnd. When not playing ttrpgs with friends, Louis can be found playing video games, yelling about superheroes, or watching bird documentaries with their cat. Louis is the assistant producer of Soul Operator, you can hear them as Alex in episode eight of The Grotto and Athena in the upcoming audio drama Forged Bonds. He is creator of upcoming talking head podcast Media Microscope.

Rowan Odom @twinstrangersp (they/them) Rowan, sound designer of All At Sea, is a non-binary creator whose passion lies in creating stories in a post-Covid world, specifically those filled with queerness, love, and horror. They also make time for D&D and random crafts in their spare time! They are one of the Strangers of Twin Strangers Productions and the creator of the studio’s first AD, Syntax. They are also the main editor in the upcoming Rites of Descendancy and can be heard as a voice in The Moon Crown as Aria, and Syntax as Elora.

Rusty Cornmagnate @cornmagnate (he/they) 20 y/o artist and graphic designer, author of visuals for All At Sea

El Carters @waysofink (they/them) is our transcriber & beta-reader/listener. Creative writing graduate from Poland who fell in love with the audio drama format in 2022. Since then they have been getting involved in some projects (like this one) & writing their own show - Nightpocalypse. When not writing, El likes to indulge in some sewing, soundscaping, DnD, media consumption, and various arts and crafts.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Okay so for Robbie (Ghost Rider) x Reader, I was thinking where the reader was going after the Watchdogs and the reader got hurt in the process where Robbie see her and then they got into a slight argument where it is dangerous to go after the Watchdogs.

So a slight angst but fluff at the end. It’s fine that you don’t want to do this one.

Promise

Pairing: Robbie Reyes x f!reader

Word Count: 800+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Robbie Reyes Masterlist

Ok, I really fucked up this time. I had gotten some intel that a higher up member of the Watchdogs that I’ve been trying to find for months was meeting a weapons dealer in a warehouse across town. I probably should’ve planned this better, but it was last minute and I couldn’t wait. 

Which may cost me my life.

As I stare down the barrel of the gun pointed directly at my face, a man with a mask yelling at me to tell them who I work for, I find myself thinking of only him. Robbie Reyes. My Robbie, the love of my life. I should’ve listened to him when he told me to back down from chasing the Watchdogs, but I was so close. And here I am, about to die for nothing. I wish I could see Robbie one last time. I screw my eyes shut, waiting for the end. 

And then screams erupt from all around me, the sounds of people flying and hitting the various shelves and barrels stacked around, smacking against the floor. And the smell. Burning flesh as the screams are silenced one by one, the gunshots that had been going off slowing to a stop, the shells clinking to the cold, hard floor. I crack an eye open, already knowing who I’d see when my eyesight adjusts. A man with a flaming skull head approaches me, tossing a thick chain over his shoulder. He kneels in front of me, his dark eye sockets boring into my own eyes as the flames disappear and Robbie appears, grunting and shaking his head as his skin grows back, his deep eyes the last things I see before I black out.

—----

When I wake, I’m in his room, Robbie sitting next to me on the bed, checking over the bandages placed over various places on my body.

“How long was I out?” I croak, suddenly needing a glass of water. 

“A day or so. Doc checked you out. Slight internal bruising and a shit ton of external ones.”

I try to move and gasp at the pain. “Fuck you slight.”

“Why were you there?”

“You know why.”

“I told you not to go.”

I sigh. “I was so close, Robbie. I had to try-”

“No! You didn’t! You almost died today.”

“But I didn’t!”

He gets up, pacing the room like he does when he’s angry. “But you almost did! And where would that have left Gabe? Where would that have left me?”

“I…what does it matter? I’m trying to protect you both from them!”

Robbie slams his fist on his dresser and I jump at the sound. “I told you, I can take care of them!”

“But-”

He walks over to me, sitting on the bed directly in front of me. “No buts. I can take care of them but what I can’t do is lose you. I…I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you. I love you, chica. Isn’t that enough?”

Tears stream from my eyes and I suck in some air at the pain. “You are enough, Robbie. I just.. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t useful.”

His eyes soften. “Not useful? Chica, you save my life every day by just being with me. I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you, but I know I can’t live without you.”

“I love you too, Robbie.”

He cups my face, careful to not upset the bruising and scrapes littered across it. His eyes catch my gaze and I can feel the love pouring from him. “Can you promise me you’ll stop chasing them? If you hear something, you’ll tell me and I’ll- we’ll handle it?”

By we he meant the Rider and him and honestly, after nearly dying, this is an easy answer.

“Of course. I promise.”

“Thank you, chica.”

He cuddles in next to me, careful to avoid hurting me as I snuggle in next to him,  hand in his chest as I feel his heart beat and feel incredibly lucky to have him in my life.

—----

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[thewebcomicsreview]

A'ight a'ight, new Hamsteak tonight! This update, the cue ball update, apparently has a content warning for physical and mental abuse, so I'm putting the liveblog behind a ReadMore

It's still weird that GCATavros and Erisol (and Fefeta) are a thing, for all sorts of reasons, but I'm not going to question it I guess.

Sneaking suspicion we're getting a new Vriska look today. Also confirmation that sprites can't change their appearance. Which I guess is not new information, but...it's also not very interesting! Moving on!

Sollux has the hardest-to-read quirk of any of the main trolls, and adding Eridan doesn't help at all. "Class-swah Dichotomy" probably means class as in social class, and not as in Classpect, but keeping the phrase in mind regardless. Davepeta is the leader of the group, a combination Rogue/Knight of Time/Heart and they passively stole Vriska's time by trapping her in the hyperbolic character development chamber, which seems like something for the classpect chart people to want to focus on. @bladekindeyewear is back in the liveblogging scene, presumably taking all sorts of notes on this.

Why the fuck is GCATavros talking like Gamzee?

Kind of interesting reading this comically pathetic version of Tavros after reading the author's commentary on the first part of this hell tier where they focused on how there was actually a lot more to him than being the buttmonkey. Also after the last update I'm reading this whole conversation expecting that Vriska will meet Doc Scratch and this will somehow tie into that relationship, though I have no idea how.

Well, that's not at all an ominous thing to say in the "Hell Tier" arc. I'm also kind of curious how this can really be an escalation over Spidermom, unless they're going to make some reveals.

This entire arc is character-based, of course, but the lore nerd in me wants to know where Scratch's parlor comes from here. Vriska never saw it, nor did any sprite, so why is it accurate? Where is Hell Tier coming from? It's also worth remembering, along those lines, that Doc Scratch is partially Hal Strider, and thus a shard of Dirk, though this is presumably not the real thing.

Scratch's text also has a typewriter sound effect, which I like. None of the characters in the flash have "voices" in like a Banjo-Kazooie/Celeste-type way, so it's immediately notable when one does.

Getting kind of creepy pretty fast here.

Vriska's text has a black background suddenly. The implications of this I don't really remember off the top of my head, though. Actually on my other monitor it's a green background, which makes a bit more sense. I think one of my monitors has kind of fucked color settings but I don't know which one.

Oh wait, that's right, Vriska has seen Scratch. Scratch distracted Aradia and Terezi so that Vriska could throw Tavros off the cliff that one time. Maybe she has been here before, on the Green Moon.

I feel like Momfang has that title, but make your case.

Oh, what the shit. I'm starting to see where the content warning is maybe coming from.

Okay, seems we're going there. Scratch was certainly always, um, pedo-coded in the way he targeted and manipulated young girls, but it seems like we're about to get some confirmation.

Um.

UM.

Okay, getting de-aged back into Hivebent-era Vriska is honestly the best outcome of Scratch putting her in a "uniform".

As much as this is about Scratch, this is also about Vriska herself, in the end.

Man, I feel like every single Scratch line here is worth examining, but I don't really know what to add. As much as this is Scratch the cueball dude this is also the concept of Fate itself.

More classpect stuff about how Vriska's power is "borrowed". Really, that's true of all the kids, their god powers and even their Ultimate Powers all come from Skaia and can theoretically be revoked at any moment. Not sure when Light "abandoned" Vriska, though, unless it's referring to (Vriska) getting killed. This Vriska knowing that her own best friend tried to murder her and that it was divinely judged Just has have fucked her up a little.

Interesting. Generally the fandom considers classpect has being an extension of your true self and your title being Skaia simply describing who you already were. This (which is partially Vriska's opinion of things) frames it as the kids being Warlocks who were granted power by Skaia. This is mostly Worldbuilding (tm) but if that's the way Vriska's thought of it it kind of explains a lot about her. She doesn't feel like she's ever earned anything she's had, even her divinity.

Vriska doesn't get a revelation here, she just gets insulted and kicked out and-

Erisol, you dick, lol.

Well that was a lot to take in. I think I need to process it. Kind of wild that it's only the halfway point. Up next is the feather and the 8-ball. I think we're down with flashbacks, and the feather is Davepeta and the 8-ball is Vriska getting out of hell.

[poisonousquinzel]

hey, hey do y'all know about this scene from the novel about Harleen's first day at Arkham? cause I'm devastated we've yet to see her in an official flashback I need more positive accurate Harleen pls pls dc I'm begging you lemmensee her

Dr. Harleen Quinzel arrived for her first day on the job in the same kind of seriously professional outfit she’d worn for her interview. The tailored navy blue suit, cream-colored silk blouse, straight skirt, and conservative black pumps made her look like she always knew exactly what to do. The no-nonsense black-framed glasses added to the effect, as did her neat French roll hairdo. Her appearance projected confident competence, but if you looked twice, you’d notice she was also gorgeous, which had been why Dr. Leland had hesitated to hire her, even with her amazing med-school transcript and the many glowing references, all of which had checked out. So here she was, about to give this young, unwary woman a tour of what Dr. Lopez had called Hell’s waiting room.

They had just come up the short flight of stairs from the mezzanine level where all the doctors’ offices were located and started down the main corridor in Long-Term Wing A when the red and yellow ceiling lights began to flash and the alarms went off. Even after fifteen years, Joan Leland always jumped when this happened, but lovely, young Dr. Quinzel didn’t even flinch—she only looked around, eyebrows raised in an expression of mild curiosity.

“Code Croc!” yelled Armand LaDue over the PA system. “I repeat, Code Croc! This is not a drill!”

Dr. Leland felt a flash of irritation. Only Armand felt compelled to say not a drill, even though everyone would know it wasn’t. Arkham didn’t have drills, only emergencies.

“All personnel clear the halls and common spaces! Security only!” Armand went on. “I repeat, security only!”

Dr. Leland turned to Dr. Quinzel and took her elbow. “We need to go back to my office—” she began. But Dr. Quinzel wasn’t listening. She was looking at the end of the hall where Killer Croc had just appeared in all his hideous, scaly glory.

The Croc was definitely one of the more eye-catching Arkham inmates, as big as their biggest orderlies, with scaly green skin, a mouth full of nasty, sharp teeth, and hungry, reptilian eyes. Dr. Leland didn’t know if normal crocodiles ever made growling noises but Killer Croc certainly did, and it was one of the most frightening things Joan Leland had ever heard, the sound of an inhuman beast that had burst out of a nightmare to attack the real world. He had been a man once and technically he still was—his DNA, though mutated, wasn’t purely reptilian and his brain waves were human. But none of that mattered when he was bounding toward you with a murderous roar.

The inmates in the rooms lining the corridor began howling and jeering. The lights were still flashing, the alarms were still whooping, and Armand LaDue was still yelling on the PA. Joan Leland’s world suddenly started tilting sideways; she ordered herself to get a grip. This was no time to feel dizzy. But the world went on tilting as Killer Croc came at them, his brutish gaze fixed on the tasty morsel that was Dr. Harleen Quinzel.

Dr. Quinzel casually reached out and took a fire extinguisher off the wall beside her. Dr. Leland had just enough time to wonder if the woman thought the place was on fire before Killer Croc leaped. With a smooth, practically casual motion, Arkham’s newest staff psychiatrist swung the extinguisher forward and up, hitting Killer Croc squarely in his most sensitive spot.

The Croc’s roar went up three octaves as he collapsed on the floor a few feet from the round toes of Dr. Quinzel’s tasteful black pumps, holding his crotch and rolling from side to side. A second later, the orderlies pounced on him with sedatives and wrapped him up in a canvas cocoon.

“You okay, Doc?” one of them asked Dr. Leland, looking as boggled as she felt.

She nodded. As they carried the still-whimpering Croc away, she turned to Dr. Quinzel, who was busily inspecting the extinguisher.

“No damage,” Dr. Quinzel said cheerfully, “but it’ll have to be recharged next month.” She put it back on the wall, then smiled brightly at Dr. Leland. “You were saying?”

“I was?” Dr. Leland said.

Dr. Quinzel’s smile became even brighter. “About the new neuroleptics?”

���Oh, yes.” Dr. Leland still felt a bit shaky but at least the world wasn’t tilting anymore. “We have new neuroleptics.”

“How new?” asked Dr. Quinzel chattily.

“Some are recent releases,” Dr. Leland said. “But a couple aren’t on the market yet.”

Dr. Quinzel’s eyes widened behind her no-nonsense glasses. “Tell me about those.”

And,,,, it's directly tied to how Joker finds out about her in the novel, in exchange for them seeing each other during her walkthrough, and I love it cause it gives more detail into his fucked up Very Clearly Manipulative And Cruel perspective. A....

Within thirty minutes, everyone on the premises had heard how the utterly unflappable new doctor had taken down the Croc in full attack mode, then stood over him chatting with Dr. Leland until the orderlies hauled him away. Oh, and she was also a knockout.

Sitting in his room at the very bottom of criminally insane hell, the Joker was fascinated. He listened to several different accounts from both staff and patients. They all told the same story—a hot young blonde clocked the Croc in the family jewels without flinching, like he wasn’t the most grotesque thing she’d ever seen. She was described variously as Helen of Troy, the goddess Athena, a Valkyrie, and the reincarnation of an actress who was actually still alive.

This was the woman he’d been waiting for, the Joker thought. Someone who wasn’t going to bore him to death. Who might actually be worth whatever time and effort it would take to destroy her.

He couldn’t wait.

ooooooh I hate him so much

Harley Quinn: Mad Love Pg. 74-77