#I'd do this if I were Anne
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The dawning and unfathomable horror of looking around realizing... Well I haven't really done much have I?
#monster noises#i have to wonder if this general lack of substantive experiences contributes#to my overall feeling of lacking humanity or personhood#i'd bet it probably does#i'd also bet this would be the kond of thing that would prompt most people#to get up and chnage things#to rally against the dull restricted confines of their life and take risks and build experience and become fulfilled#evolve from the gasping undead husk they felt themselves to be#it would inspire them to stop wasting their precious precious time and Live Dammit#but me? the way I am? the very nature of my flaws as a semi-human entity?#i think all i will do is Succumb#shrink down until i am truly a vacuous nothing and wish that things were different#that they could be any other way than what they are#but they won't be#i don't think they can be#you can want all you want but in order to get you have to do#and frankly there is not room in my life for much doing#aside from whatever gets me to tomorrow#miserable but inevitable tomorrow#why am I talk like this what is this tone#i mean this genuinely is just what my thoughts sound like but the fact i'm reading Anne Rice rn has Got to be a contributing factor
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the most devastatingly straight woman thing my mother has ever said to me was last night when i was talking to my sister about anne (of green gables) and diana's homoerotic friendship and she said "i guess i don't see it"
#mother............................ we watched those vhs tapes so many times when i was a kid#my tiny gay brain couldn't handle it#what do you mean you don't SEE IT#if we were talking about fried green tomatoes i'd be like yeah okay sure i see why that one would pass you by#but ANNE AND DIANA? YOU DON'T SEE IT?????????????#babbles
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Me @ to anyone, please anyone, I am begging you-
#do i think we need an outsiders remake/reboot/etc? no#do i want one? FUCK YES#come we've gotten like over a dozen anne of green gables remakes#just one outsiders remake to reawaken the fandom#it doesn't even need to be good i just need it to become relevant again#in my most delusional fantasies I'd wish for a sort of AU where johnny and dally survive and live together and get out of tulsa)(and marry)#i know their deaths are very important to the story but you know what else would be so important?#showing two boys who were born to die defy their fates and the roles forced upon then by society#and become more than anyone including themselves ever thought for them#but more realistically i think a pre-outsiders tv show would be so so so good#characters like tim two bit and steve can be expanded upon#their home lifes their struggles etc#we can have more dally back story#the soc ans greaser dynamics can be explored more#cherry marcia randy bob can be explored and we can get more insight on the lives of the socs#we can see how darry was before their parents death and how it changes him#johnny before he got jumped#like there is so so so much that can be explored#(and a jally kiss)#the outsiders#bob sheldon#steve randle#cherry valance#jally#ponyboy curtis#darrel curtis#sodapop curtis#dallas winston#johnny cade#two bit mathews
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I have the opportunity to spend a month in Michigan this autumn and that should be an easy decision (go! especially before I have more responsibilities) but it’s not
#I mean. the person I'm dating rn is from there and a big thing is us deciding that we want to try to make this work#and given that we're both very sad at the thought of things changing from how they are now we do want to try#but god Michigan is so far away#and in a car dependent country. and I can't drive. and do not want to be dependent on them or their family#but also this is quite the opportunity.. I'd get to see Detroit and Ann Arbor and Chicago and Toronto.. lakes...#it's a whole other continent that I've never been to like of course that would be exciting#but deciding to go feels so. definite. it's a real commitment to this relationship#a relationship which is making me happy but yeah. of course I still miss my ex we were together for more than half a decade#and I'm still just pained by him never working on himself because things could've been okay I think#hmmmm anyway. much to think about.
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positively despising how my consistent personality is leaving me and how i resort to such strange lies
#random thoughts#i write this on the cold tile floor of a place that has yet to hear my wailing screams. this is a lie. i am in bed#if my writing were anywhere near kafkaesque i don't think i'd be doing very well. but how i do admire his work#i read quite a bit. my bookshelves one day shall be piled with the works of authors such as anne rice. oscar wilde (and franz kafka himself#though this is the 21st century. what of modern fiction ? what of modern nonfiction ? i've made myself into someone#whose vocabulary is strangely extensive. we could argue that i've been this person all along#a sort of “gifted child” perhaps. except. i don't fucking use words like perhaps#as. not as. because this is a mockery of the self#how to put it less concisely ? i sound so old. “so mature for [my] age.”#i'm a very strange sort of person and when i stand alone in the water my screaming takes the form of beautiful song. but#how i long to stop the sound and choke it out into something strangled with my very own fingers. my essence is poetry#and therefore all that i am is poetry. i am so beautiful#my face and my body and everything we are made of#to spill the essence of poetry in the form of something more human. blood or spit or tears or vomit#i am so very interested in human function. what am i saying i'm being strange on purpose? but i like being strange#and this is how you see me now. my eccentric persona(lity) does not make me special at all. i'm not doing very well#i never am to tell the truth. it is getting so hard to prove my humanity and i'm starting to feel rather artificial#i have nothing to show proof of humanity such as blood or spit or tears or vomit#but then again i am simply being dramatic. i'm just being dramatic. that's it#i am just a boy and just a puppet and just how i present to others#i am pleasant. i am charming. i am robotic. i am awkward. i am cultured. i am weird. i am almost a person#my fingers are so thin. i've always been inhuman. they have their blood and spit and tears and vomit#and i have nothing but i think i like those words quite a bit. and i am watching the numbers raise higher. notifications. pretty things#i'm sorry i'm acting like this. acting. acting. actingactingactingidon't know what's brought it on#i speak so strangely. maybe i should try something else. i shall go to sleep and pretend that nothing happened. which it did. let me#bstvlpeooiamotridst . you have the words. i've been purposely alternating every three tags to write blood and spit and tears and vomit#i like patterns very much what else can i say. patterns are. pretty. though pretty isn't a word that fits into my extensive vocabulary#it should be buried at the bottom rather. what's a nicer way. i'm not actually sure#if you've made it this far please kindly say hello. otherwise that's alright#we've arrived to form our pattern again and i don't actually feel very much. bloodspit tearsvomit
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fred / evelyn / richard / lily as a new group for me to focus on?? hmm... i am thinking...
#ooc#fred and evelyn are a given#the other two... well mike is my next favorite guy survivor but i'd rather have him as a separate group w/ the hullabaloo cast#i REALLY like richard's design so far... (mostly the knight thing tbf lol) but there are other survs i could put here too. like matthias??#but i kind of like the idea of giving evelyn-richard a connection SOLELY because they were introduced together#and then contrasting that with lily-frederick (connected via the racecourse!)#but i'm torn between lily and emma or anne tbh.#actually anne-matthias could pair together nicely as a separate duo...#so where to put emma........ ALSO THERE'S DOLORES + TANG SI TOO HELP#as for why i'm sorting them into groups. it's mostly for like coming up with verse concepts centering specific characters or fic ideas#but obviously they can work outside the groups + in other dynamics too!!#idk what i'm doing tbh i'm losing my mind a little. lmao
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Can I request five x reader (takes place in s2) where reader (five’s partner) gets sent to Dallas around a year before five comes and after he does and reader sees him, she immediately tackles him on the spot and gives him many kisses. Maybe reader manages to work at a casino too
a/n: hi, thank you so much for your request! i haven’t written in a while so i'd love to hear your thoughts, enjoy!!
summary: it's been far too long since you've seen your boyfriend - he learns that the affectionate way.
warnings: reader works at a casino but there’s no actual gambling so🤷♀️
word count: 1.4k
You had to hand it to yourself, for someone who’d known next to nothing about life in the 1960s, you’d adapted pretty well. In no time at all, you’d managed to land yourself a job as a waitress in a casino. A very good one. It seemed in this timeline, Jack Ruby thought a casino would be a better investment than a night club - and for your part, you couldn’t say that he was wrong, nor could you complain.
The hours were long, but the pay was good enough and the other girls had taken you in as one of their own. You quickly began to excel. Strolling between the tables and flashing smiles was easy, second nature even. You developed the wit and charisma to charm the casino’s patrons without second thought, which meant you got more drinks served, more loyal customers and bigger tips to go along with them.
Most nights the new life you’d built for yourself was more than enough but sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but yearn for what had come before - who had come before.
There was always a dull ache in your chest whenever you caught a fleeting glimpse of a lone, brown-haired man at one of the tables. In those moments, you could never stop yourself from believing for a slither of a second that Five had made it and he’d come right back to you.
You’d waited for him in that dingy, old alley for two weeks straight, because you knew that Five would never abandon his family like that. That something must’ve gone wrong, but it was okay because he’d come back and everything would be fine. That was what you told yourself. You were so sure he’d show up and solve everything in an instant, because that was what he always did. And when he hadn’t, it had almost destroyed you.
The first few months were gruelling, taking your first steps in the new world had taken a while. Grieving Five had taken longer. The obvious truth was staring you in the face. A year without contact from him or any of the other Hargreeves siblings? The probability was that you were the only one who had survived.
It was a truth that you were reluctant to admit, even now. One that led you to where you are today, starting yet another night shift, beside the casino’s bar, to serve a particularly rowdy Friday night crowd of patrons.
As you begin to set up, Mary-Anne, one of the other waitresses on shift, sidles up to you. Her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her ears as she leans against the bar. Trying to stifle her laugh, in her southern drawl, she says, “Has he tried talking to you yet?”
You raise an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side, “Has who tried talking to me yet?”
Her grin grows wider as she gestures to a table on the far corner of the room, laughing, “That little boy. Haven’t I said a million times that we oughta get tighter on the security in this place?”
She sighs, resting her hands on her hips, “I went over to him - trying to tell him that we don’t allow minors in here - and what’d he do?”
Deciding to humour her, you smile, looking down at her, “I’ve got no idea, tell me.”
She scoffs, shaking her head as she smiles, “He told me that he more than knew his way around place a place like this and that I had nothing to worry about with him. Can you imagine having the nerve like that at his age?”
The thought made you laugh. It reminded you of Five. His haggard temper in the body of his younger self always seemed to shock people in the very same way. You paused. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t it? You must be jumping to conclusions. After all this time, it’d make no sense if he was here now and yet…
“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you glance between the table and Mary-Anne. You squint, trying to see if you could recognise him.
A part of you felt silly and girlish for still holding out hope but this kid’s description was just too similar and besides, you were a teenager again, you were allowed to be lovesick and entirely delusional. It was practically your god-given right.
Mary-Anne nodded, loading her tray up with drinks of all shapes and sizes to cover her half of the room, “He did.”
Your eyes were locked onto the distant table, practically pleading for the kid to just turn around and let your hopes down already. Still, all that greeted you was the back of his head and the green fuzz of the poker table in front of him.
When you didn’t tear your eyes away, Mary-Anne looked you up and down, her baby blue eyes swimming with concern, “You alright there?”
Looking back at her, you sigh, already pent up at the possibility of Five being so close, “Yeah, I just… What did he look like?” You ask tentatively, biting your rouge-tinted, bottom lip between your teeth.
Mary-Anne hums in thought as she loads your tray for you, “Gosh, I don’t know - he had dark hair, was wearing a suit. It had the funniest, little emblem on it.” She says, tapping her chest in place of where it would’ve been.
Your eyes widen in shock and excitement as you process her words, “An umbrella! It was an umbrella, wasn’t it?”
Mary-Anne grins, giggling, “It was… how’d you know that?”
You couldn’t even answer her. You were already starting to tremble and hyperventilate, entirely overcome with nerves and joy and pure, unbridled excitement all at once. A year of being apart and now he was no more than a few strides away. Your smile brightens up like no other.
You slip your tray from over your head and place it down on the bar as you say, “Hey, cover for me, would you? I’ll be two seconds.”
Without waiting for her answer, you dash across the room - a flurry of giddiness bubbling up inside of you the closer you get. You tousle your hair and straighten your uniform, anything to keep your anxious fingers busy and to better yourself for something you’ve waited for for far too long.
Hearing heels coming towards him again, Five sighs in frustration and turns around in his chair, “Lady, I already told you-“
The breath feels like it’s been stolen from your throat as he turns to face you. It’s really, truly him. Your boyfriend is right there in front of you and you’ve never felt more relief than in this moment.
“Y/N.”
You’re not sure if you want to cry or scream or simply just take him in for the first time all over again. As you look over him, his piercing gaze, his dark hair and the freckle on his right cheek that you can’t count the number of times you’ve kissed, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips.
God, how you’ve missed the feeling of them. You barely have time to think about what you’re doing before you’re cupping his face and pressing your lips against his once more, savouring every part of him in a way you’d never thought to before.
Your hands trail over every callous in his skin, memorising him with your fingertips, and as you pull back, Five’s gaze softens like nothing else as he smirks, “Hello, you.”
His hands reach out to cup your face, gazing over you as if he’s not entirely sure that you’re real. After all your time apart, you’re not sure either. You smile, nodding, “It’s me. It’s you. You’re here, you’re really here!”
You cup his face in return and you can’t help but press another kiss to his lips. He smiles fondly as you do. And so you kiss him again… and again on his cheek… and on his freckle… his chin… his forehead. Everywhere your lips can reach, you press them.
After a moment, he laughs weakly and reaches up to pull your hands away from his face and intertwines them with his own fingers instead, “Okay, love.” He says chasteningly, “Let’s calm down there, shall we?”
Your smile grows shyer as you right yourself, “Sorry.” You say, brushing your hair away from your face.
He shakes his head, brushing your hair back for you and then guiding you by the waist to the seat beside him, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Believe me, I’m just as happy to see you. Really.”
It’s him who initiates the kiss this time. He’s soft, delicate almost, in the way that he kisses you, as if each movement of his lips is a new way of giving all of his love to you and promising that he won’t ever let you out of his sights again.
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two movies that play with history in costuming in ways that make Brain Go Brrrr for me:
Jingle Jangle, A Christmas Journey (2020). the actual plot was very much a "this is fine but I'm not the intended audience and I didn't watch it as a child, so it will never have the nostalgia factor and it doesn't particularly compel me as an adult. and that's okay!" situation
but the COSTUMES. oh my god. Cheyney McKnight calls this "Afro-Victorian," and they did it in such an amazing way. one part that struck me is the way the clothes change over time- they didn't have to start it with 1860s-inspired fashions and then make the 30 Years Later timeskip clearly 1890s. it's a fantasy land; people would have forgiven them. but they DID and it's SO COOL
beginning of the movie. the hoops! the little perched hats! this is clearly like 1865, but it works in a lot of both fantastical twists and colors and patterns inspired by various African cloth-dyeing traditions
main character's adult daughter, after the timeskip. puffed sleeves! menswear-inspired tailoring! this is clearly Fantasy 1890s!
main character's granddaughter and her friends post-timeskip. honestly, I say African-inspired textile colors and prints, but some of these would definitely not be out of place in classic European Victorian fashion. mostly the plaid on the white girl here. appropriate skirt lengths for little girls! Cute BootsTM! hats on 99% of the female characters in this shot!
the other is The Favourite (2018)
early 18th century is severely underrepresented in film. the 1690s-1710s were gorgeous and I will die on this hill. plus the way they play around with laser-cut trim and exaggerated hair and makeup is heightening the period look, not watering it down to suit modern sensibilities
Queen Anne and her lover are doing something here; I forget what. I liked the movie, but it wasn't a- pardon the pun -favorite
would she have been wearing full-on masc clothing to shoot? probably not. is it reasonably accurate masc clothing for the era, but Stylized? yes! Also This Is Hot so I'm not complaining. maybe I'd be more into butches if they wore historical menswear...? anyway I digress
holy Tim Burton wet dream I love it so much
do I think Black Panther deserved to win the Oscar that year because the designer had to create a whole visually cohesive clothing culture from scratch? yes. do I still love the costumes in this movie? YES.
so like. it's not that I require 100% accuracy! I just like movies to be having a conversation with history rather than shouting over it, if that makes sense. (also avoiding my specific pet peeves- just be normal about corsets and put women's hair up/add hats where there should be hats. please?)
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I’ve repeatedly seen you say that you can’t read any Aurora fanfiction “for legal reasons”. I assumed this was a joke and you’d just resolved to yourself not to read any that might change where you take the story (understandable), but the more I see you say it, the more I wonder if there’s actually a legitimate legal reason. So forgive my inability to pick up on humor sometimes— is that a joke? And if it’s not, could you elaborate a bit on those reasons?
I am not a lawyer so I only have a layman's grasp of this, but as I understand it, if I read a fanfic, think "oh that's a cool idea" and consciously or unconsciously integrate it into my future work, that ensnares me and the fanfic author in a terrible tangle of mutual theft.
Technically, fanfiction exists in an extreme legal gray area, and in the early days of the internet, authors were very litigious towards their fans using their work. In the same way that Disney will get on your ass for putting Mickey Mouse in your work, any author has the same legal ownership of their characters, and they can choose to exercise it. Some famously have, like Anne Rice, but most nowadays do not. Fandom is understood to be a beneficial ecosystem for a creator to cultivate. Most creators Pretend They Do Not See It so it can continue to exist.
But suppose you wrote a fanfic about Aurora where something cool happened, and then a few chapters later, your story showed up in Aurora itself. Maybe even with some lines ripped verbatim, for even less plausible deniability. Oh shit - you've been robbed. But your story was fanfiction to begin with, only loosely permitted to exist with the understanding that you didn't own the setting or characters used. In this scenario, I stole your work, but it was work you made out of MY work in the first place. If you got mad and litigious, the legality of fanfiction itself would immediately take center stage in the argument. Do you have a right to your work when you made it out of MY work without permission? Do I have the right to take work that was made out of my work and use it without credit? The fact that I think fanfiction is a great and fun art form has no bearing on the fact that, technically, it is IP theft. And the fact that it IS IP theft has no bearing on the fact that me seeing a cool idea in a fanfic and going "mine now" would still be a shitty thing to do.
But things can get muddier. Suppose you write an Aurora fanfic where events A, B and C happen, and then over the next several chapters of Aurora, A, B and C happen. Did I steal ideas from your fanfiction? Maybe, but it's also possible that I had A, B and C planned out beforehand, and you put them in your fanfiction because you picked up the foreshadowing and prep I was putting down. You could still be mad about it, but there's a very real possibility that in this scenario the only thing I'd be guilty of was Good Foreshadowing.
In this situation, if you got mad and litigious about it, my best defense would be ignorance. I couldn't have stolen your fanfiction because I never read it. There is absolutely no chance that I was influenced by your work; I've never even laid eyes on it.
And that is why I don't read Aurora fanfiction.
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Freddie Mercury was bisexual though
Nope, this is false! 🏳️🌈 Freddie was gay, there’s a lot of misinformation out there about his non-existent affairs with women, and much of it can be chalked up to a shit biographer named Lesley Ann Jones (aka my arch nemesis).
I've been deeply fascinated by Freddie Mercury and studying his personal life for years and years so excuse the following infodump (or jump in for a queer history lesson!)
Contrary to popular belief, Freddie was an out gay man. “Gay as a daffodil, my dear!” He’s clearly stated his sexuality in a handful of interviews; “I’ve done all that but I’m gay. Mary was my last woman.” (This interview was removed from youtube but you can find it mentioned in Freddie Mercury: A Life, in His Own Words which is a compilation of his actual quotes from interviews over the years.) Those statements got buried from the media in favor of promoting his more promiscuous quotes like "Darling, I'm doing everything with everybody." (Journalists LOVE to include this quote when talking about his AIDS...) He did purposely retain an aura of mystique around his sexuality, especially because it was much safer (trendy, even) for musicians to flirt with bisexuality than to be homosexual back then.
Here's a quote from Peter "Phoebe" Freestone, Freddie's personal assistant of twelve years, close friend, and "agony aunt" in his memoir, Freddie Mercury: An Intimate Memoir by the Man Who Knew Him Best:
"When the interview appeared, it was half the length that he imagined it would be. When confronted, Judy Wade said that it would have been impossible to have printed the whole text. She said she was holding back for his benefit, not for hers. Admissions such as, ‘I'm just going for a line and I'll be back in half-a-minute,’ would not have done anyone any good. However, she was fully prepared to underline in her second sentence that admission of being a fully 'out' gay man, although this does not lay the later myth which was popular which claimed that Freddie had never admitted his gayness."
Freddie's close friend Thor Arnold, a gay man and member of the "New York Daughters" (Freddie's gay friend group in NYC, of course Freddie was "mother!") corrected misinformation when fans on the Queenzone forum argued that Freddie was bi:
"Freddie NEVER tried to hide to his friends that he was TOTALLY gay. In his industry, he had to hide it to some extent although as I have said before, he certainly gave clues. This is the same man who came up with the name QUEEN for his band. This is the man who dressed very sexually, ambiguously 'glam' up until 1980. This is the man who threw an Easter bonnet party and had us all create Easter hats. This is the man who used the term darling (or Dahling) more than he used proper names, and renamed his friends with old actresses names (…) I've never seen Freddie look twice at a woman but I have seen him look 3 or 4 times at an attractive man and say, 'Thor, Thor... Oh just look at him... Just gorgeous. I'd love some of THAT' We were genuine friends of Freddie and he would never hide that he was really bi. FREDDIE WAS A GAY MAN through and through...everyone...please get used to it."
LAJ, the biographer I previously mentioned, worked VERY hard to straight-wash Freddie in her book by erasing his gay relationships. She was obsessed with his relationship with Mary Austin and is the main reason modern journalists consider Freddie to have been in profound, romantic love with her his whole life. In reality, they dated for a few years in the 70s and remained close friends after they split up (because Freddie was having affairs with his boyfriend). However, he did rely on her as his "beard" to keep up with appearances for the press.
LAJ completely skipped over Freddie's first official boyfriend, saying it was "a covert fling with a young theatre." His name was David Minns. Freddie loved him so much he left Mary to be with him. They were in a serious relationship for three years.
If you're a Freddie fan, you're familiar with Mary's story of him coming out to her, saying "I think I'm bisexual," and her response, "I think you're gay." This story is probably not the truth. Mary has been very inconsistent with her story of how Freddie came out to her.
Another version she told for BBC Radio:
"I don’t know what sparked the conversation. But I remember standing in the kitchen and he was trying desperately to articulate how he was feeling, and his lifestyle and I just said, 'so you are telling me you're gay?' And he just smiled and 'we'll take it as a yes, you know, we'll leave it at that.' And that was it, it has been a long road getting to that point."
Honestly, I am a bit mistrustful of Mary Austin's intentions in general. If you're curious as to why, this post is a good primer on the ways she might have betrayed Freddie's wishes, namely being cruel to his chosen family after his passing.
Freddie only had one other girlfriend before Mary in college, Rosemary Pearson. When asked about Freddie on ITV's This Morning show, she said that he was more interested in her male friends than in her, and she suspected then that he was gay. This was in the 60s.
LAJ refers to his relationships with women throughout her book, but she doesn't list any names. That's because they don't exist. I could name at least seven of Freddie's boyfriends off of the top of my head. Minnsy. Joe Fanelli. Tony Bastin. Vince the Barman. Bill Reid. Winnie Kirchberger. And of course, his husband Jim Hutton, whom he spent the last six years of his life with.
There is one name that LAJ has chosen to platform and exaggerate her importance, and that's German pornstar Barbara Valentin. If you've heard of her, you might think she had a relationship with Freddie in the 80s, you might have heard the story where he had wild threesomes with her, that they lived together, that he even proposed to her. Not one word of it is true. Freddie hung around Barbara during his time in Munich because she was his 'in' to gay clubs and cocaine dealers. She also served as his English translator and conveniently, another beard for the press.
Not a single person in Freddie’s life has ever corroborated that Freddie and Barbara were anything but friends. As for the claim they lived together, according to Peter Freestone:
“In the event, Freddie never actually lived there although Barbara fulfilled a huge role in Freddie’s life at that time… Freddie became very disillusioned when with more and more frequency articles were appearing in the German press’s gossip columns… about the relationship between him and Barbara… After one article claiming to have knowledge of him and Barbara getting married, Freddie concluded that it could only be Barbara who was providing the information.”
(He was actually living with his Bavarian boyfriend of the time, Winnie Kirchberger.) Freddie stopped seeing Barbara after he found out she was gossiping about being his lover and these stories started appearing in the newspapers. Barbara continued these lies after Freddie's death, making up ludicrous lies like how Freddie tried to kill her by smothering her with a pillow?? She also claimed that he put her at risk of contracting AIDS by having sex with her after his diagnosis in 1987, which is the lie that burns the most. Freddie stopped having sex altogether before his diagnosis because he was terrified of contracting it. Before there was any information of how it was transferred, he showered compulsively. There is such a fucked up narrative that Freddie threw caution to the wind and wasn't careful during the epidemic, that it somehow fits this twisted narrative that his death was a result of his immoral lifestyle. That's the pervasive homophobia that stained the Bohemian Rhapsody biopic.
LAJ is one of those biographers who publishes their books after the celebrity has died, so they wouldn’t be able to deny the information being written in the book. So if there's anything to learn here, is that you can't always trust a biography!
Anyway, Freddie was gay as a daffodil my dears, and he deserved better.
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okay so it's been a bit... sorry about that??? ^-^; here's a quick doodle dump to make up for it with a brief (for me) explanation of where i've been at the end <3
some things that were meant as ask responses but i never felt like posting
scattered bits from a lore headcanon comic i have no plans of finishing... set when jax first joined and ragatha was still new, before shit happens (queenie abstracts) and things got worse for them...
idk i like thinking about the possibilities and i like it when characters start out hopeful and get it beaten out of them so i'm giving jax and ragatha that treatment in my head :)
here's the "behind the scenes" stuff i mentioned in the second of my raggedy ann tadc crossover posts
and here's me giving pomni varying levels of a hard time
old aggie board stuff
one of my first ragatha and pomni drawings on the left (nov 2023) and a lil redraw on the right.... (mar 2024) pls... don't mind my old ragatha design i didn't know what i was doing
and for those who like my sona, doodles inspired by the mafia roleplay/au(?) that's been around... not actually part of it, but i was part of a mafia roleplay myself back in 2020 so idk, consider it an acknowledgement of my roots :D
OKAY so where i've been... well at first it was a normal break, but then i figured i'd extend it until finals were over so i wouldn't get distracted! probably should've given some warning but ehhh i got busy fast and getting to go off grid for a bit was relaxing :)
anyway i'm all done so i'm back more or less??? still fatigued from studying for weeks straight so idk when i'll pick up the pen again but that'll be soon i hope... and bc i drafted this before it was posted YES i've seen the episode 2 trailer!!! very cool i'm very excited!! gonna try and get ep 2 hype art out before it drops!! :D
#missed you silly people in my computer i hope you are well :)#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#jax#queenie#kinger#ragatha#sona art#my art#chompni#checkmates
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Early 18th (and late 17th) century fashions are so under-utilized in vampire media and I think it's a damn shame.
I don't actually think I've ever seen a single image of a vampire character in an early 18th century suit. Hardly any movies set in that era either, and hardly any historical costumers who do it. (Even my beloved gay pirate show set in 1717 takes nearly all of its 18th century looks from the second half of the century. Not enough appreciation for baroque fashion!!)
Yes I love late 18th century fashion as much as anyone, and 19th century formal suits are all very well and good, but if you want something that says old, dead, wealthy, and slightly dishevelled, then the 1690's-1730's are where it's at.
(Retrato del Virrey Alencastre Noroña y Silva, Duque de Linares, ca. 1711-1723.)
There was so much dark velvet, and so many little metallic buttons & buttonholes. Blood red linings were VERY fashionable in this era, no matter what the colour of the rest of the suit was.
(Johann Christoph Freiherr von Bartenstein by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1730's.)
The slits on the front of the shirts are super low, they button only at the collar, and it's fashionable to leave most of the waistcoat unbuttoned so the shirt sticks out, as seen in the above portraits.
(Portrait of Anne Louis Goislard de Montsabert, Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil, 1734.)
Waistcoats are very long, coats are very full, and the cuffs are huge. But the sleeves are on the shorter side to show off more of that shirt, and the ruffles if it has them! Creepy undead hands with long nails would sit so nicely under those ruffles.
(1720's-30's, LACMA)
Embroidery designs are huge and chunky and often full of metallic threads, and the brocade designs even bigger.
(1730's, V&A, metal and silk embroidery on silk satin.)
Sometimes they did this fun thing where the coat would have contrasting cuffs made from the same fabric as the waistcoat.
(Niklaus Sigmund Steiger by Johann Rudolf Huber, 1724.)
Tell me this look isn't positively made for vampires!
(Portrait of Jean-Baptiste de Roll-Montpellier, 1713.)
(Yeah I am cherry-picking mostly red and black examples for this post, and there are plenty of non-vampire-y looking images from this time, but you get the idea!)
And the wrappers (at-home robes) were also cut very large, and, if you could afford it, made with incredible brocades.
(Portrait of a nobleman by Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess maybe 1680's or 90's.)
(Circle of Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess very late 17th or very early 18th century.)
Now that looks like a child who's been stuck at the same age for a hundred years if I ever saw one!
I don't know as much about the women's fashion from this era, but they had many equally large and elabourate things.
(1730's, Museo del Traje.)
(Don't believe The Met's shitty dating, this is a robe volante from probably the 1720's.)
(Mantua, c. 1708, The Met. No idea why they had to be that specific when they get other things wrong by entire decades but ok.)
(Portrait of Duchess Colavit Piccolomini, 1690's.)
(Maria van Buttinga-van Berghuys by Hermannus Collenius, 1717.)
Sometimes they also had these cute little devil horn hair curls that came down on either side of the forehead.
(Viago in drag Portrait of a lady, Italian School, c. 1690.)
Enough suave Victorian vampires, I want to see Baroque ones! With huge wigs and brocade coat cuffs so big they go past the elbow!
#long post#vampires#fashion#history#18th century#17th century#someday. SOMEDAY I will make a black/red/dark orange/metallic gold 1720's suit#I've got nearly all the materials I just need to:#1. Learn how to make early 18th century metallic thread buttons‚ preferably without having to buy the super expensive kind of thread#2. get a wig and style it appropriately
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Numb Without You
Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)
Rating: Mature 18+ (explicit sex, smut, language, mild violence), all characters are 18+
Summary: Sebastian Sallow, who happens to be your boyfriend, becomes irate when you agree to be Leander Prewett's dueling partner in Crossed Wands. He tries his best to punish you, but lust has a way of softening even the sharpest tempers.
Notes: Just a ramble-y little one-shot songfic thing that ended up being a lot longer than I'd planned. Not sure I like this but so it goes. Characters are 18 and in their seventh year. Gets smutty so minors DNI.
This was inspired by the song "Numb Without You" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized and I obviously don't own them. (Is use of lyrics in stories annoying? Do they add anything? Do you skim past them? I'm curious to know your thoughts.)
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
Sebastian Sallow gnawed at the inside of his cheek.
It was his only defense against himself and the overwhelming urge to commit an act so violent, he’d surely be expelled. He chewed at the soft flesh, stewing in his fury until Lucan Brattleby took notice of him.
“Ah, Sebastian!” Lucan said cheerily, clearly naive to Sebastian’s simmering fury. “You made it. We were wondering where you were. Wouldn’t be like you to miss Crossed Wands.”
Sebastian tore his eyes from the source of his anger to briefly gaze down at Lucan. “Got held up in Potions,” he said tersely.
Stupid Potions. Professor Sharp made him remain after class until he could perfect his powdering technique for asphodel root. The process made Sebastian 20 minutes late for Crossed Wands, and though the day’s duels weren’t part of an official tournament, he was eager to get some practice in.
Life had finally returned to some semblance of normalcy for Sebastian. After his tumultuous fifth year, he dedicated his entire sixth year to focusing on his studies and making amends so that he could spend his seventh year preparing for life after Hogwarts.
Anne had left Feldcroft to live with a family friend in Edinburgh. She threatened to turn Sebastian in for their uncle’s murder if he didn’t agree to drop his pursuit for a cure for her curse. Sebastian, no longer driven by the dark magic of the relic, reluctantly agreed. But Anne was at least returning his owls, even if she hadn’t seen him since that fateful day in the Feldcroft catacomb.
Ominis was also hesitant to come around. The decision to protect Sebastian rather than turn him in weighed greatly on him for much of their sixth year, but before the year ended, he found himself returning to the Undercroft to catch up with Sebastian and repair their severed relationship.
Then there was you. You backed Sebastian without a second thought after Solomon’s death. Your loyalty to him developed long before you even realized you loved him.
You aren’t sure where that devotion came from, considering Sebastian had dragged you through Hell and back. He was cruel and stubborn with you at times, put your life in danger on numerous occasions, and then put his future unfairly in your hands with his biggest kept secret.
But as the two of you stood in the Undercroft one day, shouting your frustrations at one another, you accused him of using you the entire time. You told him he’d only befriended you when he realized you had powers and skills that could help Anne. Then you accused him of only pretending to care about you because you knew the truth about Solomon. But when you turned to leave, he begged you to stay.
“I’ve never used you,” he said, his voice dipping to something much lower and softer than you’d heard from him. “I need you.”
So you stayed and you watched Sebastian Sallow shift from a teenage boy misguided by dark magic to a man who hated himself and the choices that changed him.
He opened up to you that day, spilling every anguished thought and insecurity he had – his regrets, his fears, his entire self-worth. And you hugged him and assured him that everything would turn out OK. Then you promised you’d never leave him.
Since that day, he’d more than held you to that promise. He clung to it like it was his lifeline – the final, fragile thread holding him together.
Without Ominis and Anne to lean on, you became Sebastian’s world. It all became clear during the summer before your seventh year, which you spent together in Feldcroft.
The two of you worked to fix up the Sallow family home, which now belonged to Sebastian. You teased him, telling him it was time for him to start a family to fill the cottage. You joked and laughed about the notion that Sebastian could someday be a father. And then he retorted that he’d need a wife first, and the way he gazed at you made it clear he already had a candidate in mind.
And so, your romantic relationship with Sebastian started that day, in the quiet confines of his cottage. Someday, it would also be yours.
You returned to Hogwarts for your seventh year as a couple, to absolutely no one’s surprise. Even Professor Weasley said, “It was about time,” when she discovered the two of you locking lips in a quiet corner beneath a staircase.
So you and Sebastian transformed from best friends to lovers, Hogwarts’ hot new couple. That was three months ago, so by now, everyone knew they’d be better off wandering into a pond of dugbogs than trying to romance you. If you didn’t hex them for crossing boundaries, Sebastian surely would – or worse.
That’s why Sebastian was currently seeing red.
His tardiness to the day’s Crossed Wands session forced you to find a new partner. You didn’t want to duel alongside anyone else. You and Sebastian had cemented yourselves as the king and queen of Crossed Wands, unbeaten since the day you started.
You loved dueling together. Perhaps it was nostalgic in some ways, a reminder of the early stages of your friendship when you were fighting Ranrok’s loyalists, but it was also symbolic of your relationship – the two of you worked so well together, always in sync and never fearful of your opponents.
But Leander Prewett noticed Sebastian’s absence and pounced at the opportunity to call you his partner, even just for an afternoon.
You didn’t read much into it, but when Leander suggested the two of you hang out at the Three Broomsticks later on, you wondered if the Gryffindor was being far too brave for his own good.
Still, you agreed to duel together and the two of you made quick work of your first two pairs of opponents (though Leander was mediocre at best).
You were too preoccupied to notice Sebastian’s arrival midway through your second duel, so you didn’t see the way he stared at you and Leander.
He clenched his jaw so hard it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. And as you shoved your way in front of Leander to protect him with a perfectly timed Protego spell with Sebastian looking on, you and Leander would have been safer in an acromantula’s nest.
The noise inside the clock tower became a background hum as Sebastian dissociated, a surge of panic and rage ballooning inside his chest. He could hear Lucan speaking in his ear but didn’t register the words. Spells clanged off of wood crates and ricocheted off the stone walls but he took no notice.
The only time he tore his eyes from you was to turn to Lucan.
”I get next round,” Sebastian said quietly. It wasn’t a request.
Lucan looked up at him in surprise. “Do you have a partner?”
”I don’t need one.”
Lucan lit up in excitement, clearly oblivious to the repository of rage that had formed in Sebastian’s brain. “Wicked,” he said with a nod.
You always joked that jealousy didn’t look good on Sebastian, but truthfully, it did. His eyes darkened and he became focused. You loved the way he looked when he was brooding. So when Lucan announced the next round and Sebastian emerged from the top step of the clock tower entrance, you inhaled sharply.
That old adage, “If looks could kill” buzzed in your brain. And poor Leander was as good as dead.
“Sebastian!” you said, relieved to see him, yet terrified for what was likely about to happen. “You made it!”
But your expression quickly contorted into concern when you saw his face.
You knew that look. And it terrified you, because you’d only seen it on select occasions. Only when Sebastian was borderline manic.
You’d seen Sebastian’s jealousy manifest plenty of times, the worst being the way he damn near demolished a man for flirting with you during a visit to Irondale. You knew he thought Leander was a prat and that he’d be annoyed you agreed to partner with him, but you had hoped the two of you would be able to laugh about it later.
You should have known better. Sebastian could be playful, but he didn’t play when it came to you.
Let's get this straight. You are a panic in the bloodstream, yet you bring me peace. You are a stutter in the heart that beats inside of me.
As the students who were crowded inside the clock tower realized what was about to happen, the air inside the room became heavy and tense. The crowd collectively stepped back, melting to the stone walls to make room.
“Sebastian, are you all right?” you asked, your eyes begging him to understand it was all in good fun. You’d never actually betray him.
You loved him.
But Sebastian wasn’t looking at you anyway. He was glaring knives into Leander, who didn’t seem to understand he was nearing his own execution.
You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.
”Sebastian, relax,” you said in a reasoning tone, silently praying your soothing voice might relieve his ire. “It’s just a meaningless duel. Let’s have fun with it.”
Sebastian’s gaze finally shifted to you. It softened a bit, but there was still a blackness in his eyes that made you nervous.
You knew he’d never really hurt you. Not again, not after the scriptorium. He’d die before he allowed that. The two of you dueled each other all the time, countless hours in the Undercroft casting Confringo at one another. He’d never pushed too far or risked anything that could genuinely hurt you. You’d be safe because Sebastian loved you far too much to hurt you — and because he knew you’d put up too good of a fight anyway.
But for as much as Sebastian loved and cherished you, his Achilles had become the notion that anyone else could ever be permitted to do the same.
You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.
“Of course, love,” he said steadily as he slid his wand from his pocket. And you knew that his quiet, calm demeanor indicated a brutal battle was to come.
As soon as Lucan signaled the start of the duel, Sebastian fired a fury of offensive spells at Leander, one after another in rapid succession. You knew they were coming, but you could only do so much.
“Protego!” you cried as you shielded your partner, your bubble deflecting Sebastian’s onslaught.
That only seemed to irk Sebastian more as he sent a stinging hex your way. You dodged it and Leander chuckled. He still didn’t seem to fully grasp his predicament.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he teased Sebastian.
“Leander,” you hissed in aggravation.
A basic cast whizzed past your ear and you flinched, dropping your shield charm. You straightened and hit Sebastian with Depulso, buying yourself some time.
“Leander,” you said again, your tone much more urgent as you willed your partner to take things seriously. “Focus.”
Leander snorted and used the opportunity to cast Diffindo. You winced as the spell largely missed, but just managed to nick Sebastian’s side. Blood began to seep through his white shirt but you knew better than to stop, especially when you noticed how your boyfriend’s eyes blazed.
“Sebastian, enough,” you tried to say firmly as Leander cast Incendio to put some distance between himself and Sebastian. But the only thing that burned hotter than the ring of fire was Sebastian’s temper.
“Aguamenti,” he mumbled to douse the flames with water. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked – that signature smirk that typically rendered you weak in the knees. But this time, you sensed danger.
“Sebastian, it’s just you and me,” you said, praying your words would land with him.
Sebastian nodded as your eyes locked. You begged him with your gaze to understand, and he did.
You and me. Those words had become your mantra over the past three years. You and Sebastian would whisper them to one another before raiding bandit camps, fighting Ashwinders and solving sinister puzzles. But you also spoke them in your intimate moments, when it was just the two of you savoring each other’s company.
Something about that phrase comforted the two of you. You knew it had reassured Sebastian, but you also knew he was far too impish to simply stop the duel.
“Alarte Ascendare!”
Sebastian’s spell sent Leander flying backward again. Leander coughed and sputtered. The way he grimaced confirmed he’d likely cracked a rib or two. It also confirmed that a slew of spells was likely to come, because that was Sebastian’s signature move – blast his enemy backward before unleashing a storm of offensive spells on them.
“Leander, look out!” you managed, but it was too late.
Sebastian levitated Leander and hit him with a Confringo and Bombarda spell combination powerful enough to rattle the entire room. Leander was blasted backward, the force sending him crashing into a pile of crates while Sebastian watched his handiwork with smug satisfaction.
“Sebastian!” you scolded. “You could have seriously hurt him!”
“And?”
You huffed in annoyance as you ran to check on Leander, dropping your wand in the process. That was your final mistake.
As you bent down to see if Leander had any visible injuries, you were suddenly levitated off your feet.
“Sebastian Oliver Sallow, you put me down!” you demanded, your legs kicking wildly in the air.
“Or what?” Sebastian challenged, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Fight’s over, you won!”
Sebastian flicked his wand and you floated toward him swiftly, still flailing in aggravation at his antics. He held steady, hovering you above him, higher and higher until your feet dangled well above his head. He smirked and you could feel him peering up your skirt.
“You fucking troll,” you hissed.
Sebastian laughed.
Meanwhile, the crowd had been tending to Leander, who at least managed to sit upright. A group of students helped him to his feet to support him to the hospital wing, but Sebastian paid no mind.
“All right, that’s enough for today,” you heard Lucan declare. “See you all next week.”
Students began to file out of the clock tower for dinner, but a few of your curious friends held back, lingering to see the outcome of your lovers’ quarrel.
“Sebastian, put her down,” Poppy laughed, though you noticed the edge in her tone. “Duel’s over.”
Natty also sensed there was more to it. “Are you alright?” she asked. You weren’t entirely sure if she was addressing you or Sebastian but you didn’t want her to worry.
“We’re fine,” you sighed, still lingering in the air. You rolled your eyes to emphasize your point, that you and your boyfriend were just having fun. Your friends didn’t need to know that you had likely just saved Leander from devastating injury. They did know that you and Sebastian were prone to silly little spats like this, and though they didn’t quite understand your relationship, they knew you always seemed to handle it well.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word alone with my dearly beloved,” Sebastian said, smirking at you.
“You two are something else,” Natty sighed while Poppy giggled. “See you at dinner.”
You waved goodbye and watched them leave the clock tower, your feet swaying gently as you remained suspended mid-air. Once they were out of earshot, you glowered at Sebastian.
“OK, you proved your point,” you sneered. “Now put me down.”
Sebastian merely chuckled. He twirled his wand for emphasis, causing you to also twirl, which made him laugh more.
He was enjoying this far too much and you were struggling with the fact you had little control over the situation.
“Not until it’s very clear to me that you understand what you’ve done wrong.” He flicked his wand again, sending you darting across the room with a swish. “And that you understand there are consequences to your actions.”
“It was just a harmless duel, Sebastian. You weren’t here and Leander asked to be my partner. You know it didn’t mean anything. And you made your point clear to everyone else.”
“Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you,” Sebastian noted. “But I bet Prewett loved it. He’s carried a torch for you since fifth year.”
“So? Even if he has, it’s a moot point.”
“ I know that ,” Sebastian said, waving his wand for emphasis. The movements caused you to dip sharply before you were jerked upward again, dangling about six feet off the ground. “But he needed to know.”
“So then why are you punishing me?”
Sebastian grinned. “Because I can.” You heaved a defeated sigh and Sebastian approached you, his eyes fixated on yours. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”
“I promise.”
“And promise me you won’t partner with anyone else again.”
“I promise.”
Sebastian flicked his wand and you gasped as you were tipped upside down, your hair spilling downward and the hem of your skirt slipping from your knees, past your chest.
“Sebastian!” you squawked as you grabbed for your skirt hem, trying to cover yourself.
“Relax, love,” Sebastian said, his voice silky as he circled beneath you. You felt like bait, dangled inches above a hungry shark. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“I know that,” you huffed. “But anyone else could come walking through.”
He flicked his wand and you levitated lower, still upside-down, until he could reach you, his face inches from yours. He smelled warm and earthy, like sandalwood and spices.
“You’re awfully attractive when you’re vulnerable,” he teased in your ear. He reached upward, his fingers gently touching the top button of your blouse. You held your breath as he popped open the first button, then the second, exposing your chest. The air inside the clock tower felt cool against your skin, but you felt distressingly hot.
Sebastian was quick to notice that you hadn’t bothered to squirm or swat his hands away. He knew you too well. You liked when he was possessive over you.
Let's get this straight. You are a fever in the cold, yet I'm not shivering. You are a shudder in the voice that screams inside of me.
“But you do need to be taught a lesson,” Sebastian continued. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your upside-down lips before his mouth found your neck.
You inhaled sharply as the blood continued to rush to your head. Sebastian gently nuzzled against your collarbone until you could feel him smirking against your skin.
“You feel hot,” he murmured against you.
“Probably because you damn near set Leander on fire,” you retorted. You could still hear one of the wood crates crackling in the corner.
“He deserved it,” Sebastian mumbled before his lips found yours again. When he pulled away, you could feel his eyes slink upward to your chest. He pressed a trail of kisses from the corner of your lips, up your neck and between your breasts.
Your breath hitched and you wondered if you were going to pass out. Sebastian already knew how to rob you of all sensibilities, but the blood in your brain induced a haze that clouded all of your inhibitions.
You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.
You could feel him smirking against your chest until he pulled away, stepping back to set you upright with a swish of his wand.
“Put me down,” you said firmly, hoping you sounded more authoritative than you felt. In truth, you felt completely submissive.
“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He could be cruel, but he’d never force you to expose yourself to half of Hogwarts. That was all meant for him and only him anyway. That was the entire point of all this.
Sebastian held his wand out, steadily lowering you until you were a foot from the ground. As soon as you assumed you were about to reunite with the stone floor, he caught your gaze and grinned.
Another quick flick of his wand sent you swooshing toward a pile of untouched crates stacked away in the corner. You squealed in surprise until you were gently lowered slowly to a seated position on top of one. Sebastian tread casually toward you, one hand still clutching his wand as the clack of his footsteps echoed throughout the clock tower.
“Bastard,” you sneered as he reached you.
“Now, now, love,” he cooed as he stepped closer, using a knee to nudge his way between your legs. “Don’t be mad. You’re the one who betrayed me, after all.”
“I’d hardly consider that a betrayal,” you chided. “Prewett’s about as useful as a Flobberworm. I would’ve been better off dueling on my own.”
“Glad you learned your lesson,” Sebastian mumbled as his arms snaked their way around your waist. “Now you get to make it up to me.”
“If I make it up to you, will you apologize to Prewett?”
”Absolutely not.”
”Sebastian…”
Sebastian sighed as he drew back to meet your gaze. “Why should I apologize?” he demanded. “He was the one moving in on my girlfriend.”
”Oh, please. Even if he was, it wouldn’t matter and you know that.”
”But it’s the principal,” Sebastian drawled. “He should know better. Everyone knows you’re mine.”
You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.
Perhaps Sebastian was a bit possessive when it came to you. Attention from others made his blood boil and he was always quick to challenge them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you — you’d proven your loyalty to him long ago, but his fear of losing you often made him irrational. He’d already lost so many people close to him, you couldn’t help but give him some grace when he tried to cling too tightly to you.
”So maybe Prewett was just trying to test his luck. Or maybe he’s lost what few brain cells he had,” you said. “The point is, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sitting here with you, not him.”
”Too right you are,” Sebastian smirked. He inched closer and leaned in to kiss you in that slow way that made your stomach somersault. But as he kissed you, you quickly pulled away as you noticed the feeling of something trickling over your hand.
“Sebastian!” you gasped as you realized your hand was covered in blood. “You’re still bleeding.”
Sebastian sighed, clearly annoyed that your concern for his injury was outweighing your desire. “I’m fine,” he huffed.
“You’re hurt,” you said sternly, eyeing his side. Blood had started to seep through his white shirt, which was ripped from Leander’s Diffindo spell.
“I’m fine,” Sebastian repeated. “And I refuse to allow the results of Prewett’s ignorance to distract my girlfriend any longer.”
“At least drink a Wiggenweld,” you ordered.
“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He turned on his heel and you watched as he crossed the clock tower to the storage chest equipped with various potions and first aid items. You leaned back on your hands, your feet dangling from the edge of the crate as you could hear Sebastian rummaging through the chest. “Ah, one Wiggenweld,” you heard him say before he paused to down the potion. A tiny clink suggested he tossed the vial aside before returning to you.
As he crossed the room again, you swallowed as he unbuttoned his shirt while he walked, slowly peeling it away until it fell to the floor in a heap. He smirked as you shifted atop the crate, the flickering lights dancing over his body to cast shadows on the stone walls.
“Now, where were we?” Sebastian said smoothly. He returned to his standing position between your legs, placing one hand on either side of you as he leaned forward.
Your eyes fell to the slash beneath his ribcage and you frowned. “At least let me do a quick healing spell,” you begged.
“I’m fine,” Sebastian insisted. But as you reached your fingers toward his wound, he inhaled sharply and you shot him a stern look.
“I’m not letting you touch me until it’s healed,” you said.
Sebastian groaned in annoyance. “Fine,” he huffed as he straightened up, turning his body so that the gash faced you. “Have at it, love.”
“Thank you. My wand, please?”
“Oh yes, that,” Sebastian said, offering you a smirk. “Forgot I still had that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Sebastian chuckled at your remark and brandished your wand from his back pocket. “Here you are, princess.”
You glowered at him and pointed your wand at his wound. “Vulnera Sanentur,” you murmured. The gash immediately stopped bleeding and the skin seemed to fuse back together, leaving a red scar that looked tender and raw. “That’s better. Not fully healed, but better.”
“Good,” Sebastian said, plucking your wand from your hand and tossing it to the side. It clattered on the stone and rolled until you could no longer see or hear it. “Now, where were we?”
“Sebastian, we really should be getting to dinner,” you said weakly. Sebastian grinned. He was clearly amused by how pitiful and unconvincing you sounded.
“I’m not hungry,” he said. “At least not for dinner.”
Maybe it was his tousled hair. Maybe it was the signature smirk that never seemed to leave his lips. Maybe it was the way he had fought for you in such an unflinching manner. Or maybe, most certainly, it was the way the low light caught his toned arms and torso, his new scar a symbol of the lengths he was willing to go for you.
Whatever it was, it commanded control over you and you had no desire to fight it. You never did.
I won't leave, no, I won't surrender. I'll wait 'til the end of, the end of time. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.
Instead, you let Sebastian lean down to kiss you, his hands grabbing your face. It wasn’t long before he fully closed the gap between you, standing pressed against your body while his teeth grazed your bottom lip.
Your hands roamed from his sides, over that new scar, up his chest until they snaked around his neck. Your legs mimicked your arms as they wrapped Sebastian’s frame.
“I do have to admit,” Sebastian murmured against your neck. “You do look pretty fucking gorgeous when you’re dueling.”
“You’ve just now figured that out?” you retorted. You could feel Sebastian smile into your skin.
“Of course not. You always look bloody gorgeous. It’s just particularly alluring when you happen to be surrounded by fire.”
“Noted,” you murmured. “Though that doesn’t mean you can cast Confringo every time you’re aroused.”
“You’re no fun.”
The two of you shared a quiet laugh before Sebastian’s hands found their way beneath the hem of your skirt. You felt the pads of his fingers gently skimming the tops of your thighs until they found your hips.
The longer he kissed you, the more the bulge in his pants prodded your inner thigh in earnest. The feeling of Sebastian’s desire for you fueled your own, igniting the familiar beckoning between your legs that made you shift closer to the edge of the crate.
Sensing your urgency, Sebastian pulled away just enough to smirk at you. “Now now,” he mused. “If I had to endure the absolute torture that was watching you duel with Prewett, you should have to exercise a little patience yourself.”
You should’ve known you weren’t getting off the hook that easily. It was never that easy with Sebastian.
His eyes fell to your chest, where the top two buttons remained open. He reached for the third, then the fourth and downward, his fingers lingering as they took their time with each one.
With your shirt hanging open, Sebastian reached for your hair with one hand, balling it within his fist as he kissed you hard. The other hand snaked its way over your breasts to your left shoulder, tugging your shirt sleeve off. He released your hair to remove your other sleeve, leaving you bare above the waist.
Sebastian took a moment to admire you – he always did. He had a way of ensuring you felt like you were the only other person on Earth, like your physique alone kept his veins open and his heart pumping.
Once his eyes were done drinking in your body, he reached for one of your breasts, his palm cupping you while his fingers gently squeezed. His thumb traced circles over your nipple until his mouth replaced his hand.
You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his tongue flicker across your skin. You wanted his tongue everywhere but if you asked for it, he’d surely continue to tease you with it.
Instead, you felt one of his hands creep back under your skirt, resting atop your thigh again. He gave your leg a gentle squeeze and you shifted, parting your legs to invite him in. His fingers hooked around the waist of your panties, so you lifted your hips to help him remove them.
His fingers traced gentle lines over your entrance and you bucked your hips, your silent way of begging for more. Your body was aching to feel any part of him inside of you, but he merely flashed you a smirk and left his fingers trailing outside of your folds.
A whimper escaped your lips as he kissed you again and you just knew he was thriving off of your impatience. He kissed you in ways that left you at a loss for thought, void of all composure as his fingers drew enticing circles around your cunt.
“Sebastian, please,” you whined, rocking forward in desperation to relieve the scorching tension swelling in your core. He barked a laugh.
“It’s sexy when you beg like that,” he chuckled. He dipped his head to kiss your neck, nipping gently at the skin before his lips pressed a trail of kisses between your breasts and across your stomach. Bent over your body, Sebastian lowered himself to place a kiss atop your knee until he started a new trail beneath your skirt, creeping closer to your core until…
He straightened up again, standing tall as he flashed a sinister grin that nearly made you scream in frustration.
You hated the waiting game. Especially when it was getting dark and dinner would be over soon. Especially as the space between your thighs had become so sensitive, so wet, you nearly moaned at the slightest shift in weight. Especially when you knew how fucking good it would feel when you finally engulfed every inch of Sebastian’s length.
But perhaps there was a way to speed things up. You were a smart girl and Sebastian was merely an 18-year-old man. Surely you could find a quicker way to achieve your goal of convincing the bastard to hurry up and fuck you until you gasped his name and saw constellations undetected by any telescope.
So before Sebastian could tease you with that stupid fucking tongue any further, you reached for his belt, unbuckling it with expert rigor.
“Awfully eager, aren’t we?” he teased. But instead of indulging his cruel banter, you indulged yourself by tugging his trousers down, reaching for the one thing you knew would gain back your control.
Sebastian hissed the moment he felt your fingers wrap around him. And though he loomed over you, gazing down at you with heavy eyes, you had regained control.
You wrapped your lips around him and he groaned, his head tilting backward and his eyes falling shut as he focused on the sensation. This time it was your turn to tease with your tongue and Sebastian silently praised you for it.
You typically took your time when it came to this task. You enjoyed the empowering feeling of reducing Sebastian to whimpers and moans. But the prolonged build-up – the tension from the duel, the jealousy Sebastian couldn't quell, the way he kissed you like he relied on your breath for his own oxygen, had you wound so tight you were certain your insides had contorted into knots.
So you quickened your pace for a bit before allowing your tongue to flicker across Sebastian’s tip as his fist grasped your hair into a tangled mess.
“So fucking good,” he mumbled toward the ceiling.
His tip hit the back of your throat and your head bobbed as you took him in. The way he groaned, the way his nails dug into your scalp, you knew he’d returned to his rightful place – wrapped around your finger, even if you were presently wrapped around him.
You also knew he would never leave you hanging. He wouldn’t finish until you did, which meant you just had to tantalize him a little more, until his patience crumbled. A few more flicks of your tongue should do it…
With a sharp tug of your hair, Sebastian pulled himself from your mouth, his teasing ways now forgotten.
“Come here,” he growled.
You straightened to sit upright and before you could say a word, Sebastian grabbed your legs and yanked you to the edge of the crate. The hem of your skirt was shoved upward and Sebastian was prying your legs apart in haste.
You ran your tongue across your bottom lip as you realized you’d earned what you wanted. Finally .
As Sebastian guided himself into you, you realized you’d been holding your breath. It escaped your lips in the form of a soft moan while Sebastian mumbled a curse at the sensation of your heat enclosing around him.
“You’re so wet,” he growled as you stretched around his length.
“Your fault for punishing me,” you murmured.
“And I’d do it again.”
Your banter subsided as the quiet corner soon echoed with the sounds of heavy breathing and skin whipping against skin. Sebastian’s rhythm was quick, yet steady while you silently thanked the gods, the fates, and every other spiritual being for causing you to cross paths with Sebastian Sallow.
Though you’d had Sebastian dozens of times before, there were no words to describe how fucking blissful it always felt.
“Fuck,” was all you could manage.
Your arms were draped around Sebastian, your fingers pressing sharply into his shoulder blades as he pumped into you with more force. Your nails gripped at his flesh and he clenched his jaw at the sting.
“Harder,” you breathed and Sebastian obliged. His hands gripped your hips harder as he worked. No more punishments. No more games. Now he merely wanted you to come undone for him.
And then you did. Your breath hitched in your throat and you managed to sputter Sebastian’s name just as your orgasm began. It pulsed through you and you cried out as your walls clenched around him, compelling him to fuck you harder, to ensure you were good and finished.
When your high subsided, Sebastian paused to kiss you forcefully, reminding you he was the one responsible for it. Your thighs glistened in the low light and Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the spot where the two of you were connected as he steadied his pace again.
He reached up to tug your hair, your head snapping backward so that you’d look him in the eyes. He pulled just hard enough so that your eyes began to water, and he smiled at you.
”Having fun?” he cooed.
”Yes,” you panted.
“You’re lucky I was in a forgiving mood today.”
So lucky. You’d survived a goblin rebellion, vengeful poachers and bloodthirsty creatures. You’d been born with a rare gift, a powerful magic that most couldn’t even begin to fathom. But your luckiest moment in life was the day it led you to Sebastian Sallow.
Sebastian reached down to press his fingertips against your clit and your gasp echoed throughout the clock tower. Anyone passing by would surely catch on to the debauchery happening inside, but you trusted that Sebastian would hex anyone who threatened to ruin the occasion.
His fingers dragged their way across you, beckoning you to lose yourself for him again. The crate beneath you creaked as you rocked your hips to increase the friction wrapped around Sebastian’s cock, desperate to ride one more wave of ecstasy. As it started, you squeezed yourself around Sebastian, eliciting a sharp grunt from him.
The sound that left your lips was damn near guttural but you were too euphoric to care. Sebastian’s cock pounded that soft spot of flesh that made your thighs shake and your cunt flood around him.
It was too much for Sebastian’s restraint and soon he was also spilling himself, filling more than your body could take. As his own orgasm subsided, the sounds of your panting quickly replaced the sounds of your sins.
Sebastian rested his head on your shoulder as you caught your breaths and the room returned to sharp focus. Though you were hot, your hair plastered to your forehead, you suddenly became very aware that the air inside the clocktower was chilly. You gasped as a sudden shiver coursed through you and Sebastian lifted his head with a frown.
“Let’s get you dressed,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to your temple. He backed away to help you gather your wand and the articles of clothing you’d shed before getting dressed himself.
When you were both decent, he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a quiet kiss.
“All right?” he asked.
“All right,” you answered with a smile. Your body felt tired, yet relaxed, and your head no longer felt full of the day’s stress.
“Learn your lesson?”
“No.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk at your response. “Sure you don’t want to rethink that?”
“If by ‘lesson,’ you mean dueling with anyone but you, yes. But even the brightest witches sometimes forget everything they’ve learned,” you teased.
“Then the brightest witches will continue to be punished in the most cruel and unusual ways,” Sebastian hummed in your ear as he tossed an arm around you to steer you toward the archway.
“We missed dinner,” you whined as you returned to the castle.
Sebastian sighed. “We can sneak down into the kitchens and grab something. I’m sure they’ll have those biscuits you love.”
“I’d kill for a shepherd’s pie right now,” you mumbled longingly.
Sebastian squeezed your shoulder gently. “I’ll treat you to one at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow, I promise,” he said.
You smirked to yourself as you reached the castle doors and pushed your way inside. “You know, Leander offered to take me there tonight, after our duel. Beginning to think I should’ve taken him up on it.”
“He what?”
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fandom#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow fanfic#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow smut#hl#ao3 writer#whizzing fizzbee fanfic
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In the almost month since the election I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt hopelessly crushed, furious, overwhelmed, and just plain exhausted. I hate that this has happened, and that the orange shitstain is gonna put the most awful people in power. I’m not gonna lay down and die, but I’m just so tired of this. That man has slowly drained the hope out of this nation for the last ten years and I’m sick of it. I know this didn’t start with him, but he certainly emboldened blatant authoritarianism. I know every generation feels at some point the world is ending, but at this point it feels so difficult to try to have hope for the future. I believe we as a country can be better than this, but I’m not sure at the moment how we can get there.
I know the feeling, the tired part any ways.
in 2016 I was in the Hillary campaign and like we talked about HOW! bad Donald Trump could be, Hillary had a tweet "we can't trust a man who can be baited with a tweet with the nuclear codes" and for us inside the campaign we took all that very seriously for us it was not talk we meant it, we believed he was really dangerous, deeply corrupt possibly criminal already, and totally unqualified and unfit. And we said so, and no one took us seriously, I always remember a nice middle aged couple stopped at our office to get some signs they weren't from the state and were just passing through. But Democrats, supporters and I was trying to push them to maybe volunteer (as was my job) and I talked about how a Republican President (Ie Trump) could appoint up to 4 Supreme Court justices and they would surely do away with Roe V Wade. And They literally rolled their eyes at me and said "I know thats a good line but do you really believe that'd happen? they'd do away with Roe?" yes, yes we did.
So any ways I believed Trump 1.0 would be every bit as bad as it turned out to be, it was even on January 6th a little worse. So I went through the emotional roller coaster in 2016
2024 has been just sad, and tired.
But I do feel something growing in the guts of my soul, rage, pure burning rage. Someone once said that the thing that fuels every good activist is rage at the world for being imperfect. I don't know if thats right or true.
But it's whats getting me up in the morning, we offered hope, and kindness and a better world and they threw it back, well fuck 'em. This is my patch of dirt on god's good earth goddamn it and they can't fucking have it without a fight, I'm a miserable cockroach motherfucker, I will out fight them, out last them, and win and stand on the ashes of their fucking fascist dreams.
more to the point, I did feel like giving up, and saying "well they picked this, eyes wide open, now we all suffer, w/e" but I don't get to give up, Bill Clinton said "there are no permeant victories or defeats in politics" and he's right, this is the call and the cause, to struggle unendingly for the better world and if you're very lucky you live to see it turn a little and a new battle for the better of man kind than the one you spent your life on be engaged. For me personally, my nephew is trans, he's 17 looking at colleges, picking states that are safe for him. I don't have the power to protect him, I did EVERYthing in my power to stop this, because of him, and for him, I'll be out there again and again and again. I wish deals with the devil were real because I'd just go to hell so he could be safe and happy, but sadly only hard work and uncertain outcomes are real.
I have no easy answers, no clean hope of a better world or a better America about to be born from the bitter ashes of this election. Harvey Milk said "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it life is not worth living" And the last 10 years, the forces of darkness have across all of society, wearing many different faces tried to take hope out of our souls, and its brought us here. My favorite speech is by Ann Richards and I quote the end a lot, but here I'll quote something she said way way back in 1988
This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can’t fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other. Their political theory is “divide and conquer.” They’ve suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to any one else. We’ve been isolated. We’ve been lumped into that sad phraseology called “special interests.” ------ No wonder we feel isolated and confused. We want answers and their answer is that "something is wrong with you." Well nothing's wrong with you. Nothing’s wrong with you that you can’t fix in November! We've been told -- We've been told that the interests of the South and the Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country and in our isolation we think government isn’t gonna help us, and we're alone in our feelings. We feel forgotten. Well, the fact is that we are not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation. We are the United States of America.
in the 2020s we're doing it to ourselves but its helping the cynical just as much. Each of us trapped on our phones in our own personal self made hell, well not self made, there are algorithms feeling you stories designed to make you feel like shit, because when you feel like shit you stay on-line, and keep doom scrolling. We're divided and our culture, the way we speak to each other it only makes us more divided, we're rubbery and inauthentic.
So I guess, you want hope, get out there and find something you believe in and fight for it, there's a local candidate near you I'm sure you can believe in, a ballot measure, a local group, something, and break the isolation we have to talk again because if we don't, well its already eaten us alive and we're trying to get out of the whale.
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ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!
imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3
CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor���♡
12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie
"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."
Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.
Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.
Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.
So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.
But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.
"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."
"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.
"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.
Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.
Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.
The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.
"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"
I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.
The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"
A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.
Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"
"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.
It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"
"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.
When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.
Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"
"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.
"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.
Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"
𐙚prompts closed
#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd smut#dazai bsd#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#dazai smut#bungou stray dogs dazai
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I'd like to discuss the elephant in the room. Why did we get zero Loumand sex scenes? We got hints and implications, but season 1 was pretty explicit. Do we think that that's a creative choice or something else is happening?
I'm glad I ended up ruminating on this for about a week because episode 7 & 8 really solidified my opinion on it.
I do wanna start by saying that it's very clear to me that there was supposed to be more explicit scenes between them. There has been some thoughts tossed around that censorship happened with the 9 pm timeslot (as opposed to the 10 pm timeslot of S1). I believed this hearing Assad and Jacob talk about the BDSM dynamic between Louis and Armand, but what really sold me on this was Production Designer Mara LePere-Schloop talking about the bedroom set and more specifically about their beautifully carved custom headboard. (If you're a production nerd like me or just want to know more about the design philosophy of IWTV I recommend giving the entire thing a listen!).
I think there are several reasons I think as to why they decided to leave any more explicit scenes on the cutting room floor but above them all is: you cannot separate Armand's sexuality from his abuse. I am really against pulling a "well if you read the books" card but reading just the first couple chapters of "The Vampire Armand" makes me understand so much about not only Armand as a character, but the care being taken to his adaptation. It's clear to me that alongside Rolin & Co.'s commitment to not watering him down to a one-dimensional villain they are also trying to not fall into Anne Rice's tendency to romanticize his trauma.
Sex and sexuality is not the same pillar of Louis and Armand's relationship it was in Louis and Lestat's and so I don't believe their story suffers from the lack of on-screen sex. But I also firmly believe that maybe we don't need to be slutting out the character who we literally just watched talk about how he doesn't remember his life before being sex trafficked. And even when he was "freed" he was still being repeatedly assaulted at the hands of, and under the eye Marius de Romanus. Like it is extremely important to remember that Armand's craving for dominion in his relationships is a manifestation of trauma that deserves the same level of care and depth given to every other trauma portrayed in this show.
I think people have gotten too comfortable calling IWTV a romance when it has always been Gothic Horror. Romance and sex are pivotal to the story but I have found the demands for sex scenes this season a bit absurd and also? unfounded? Loustat share more kisses on screen but there are two sex scenes and both are very plot relevant. I truly figured we were all in agreement that the eroticism of this show is found in the various displays of power, and the dynamics it creates and not the actual clapping of ass-cheeks...which also wasn't happening in S1 either. S2 does not suffer because of the lack of sex-scenes, but the likelihood if it suffering trying to make one work is
#char.txt#interview with the vampire#iwtv#iwtv meta#loumand#the vampire armand#armand#answered#I didnt bring it up here just because this is really an opinion peice#but jacob makes a good point about because this is an interview with them yk still as a couple its also about privacy#its also just not the part they are trying to sell them on Daniel knows they are fucking we all know they are fucking#theyre trying to show that this isnt the stepford wives (it is)#ive written this response like 3 times trying to remove my disgust at the fandom from it LOL#but the way people have talked about this with armand has...really rubbed me the wrong way#like the more i learned about him the more sinister it kind of felt to be like ''well why arent the fucking on every surface''#IDK if you want the extremely personal and petty take too i will gladly give that
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