#but this is probably one choice i can really reason with

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Every Day That You Want

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Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, pre-established relationship, marriage proposal

Summary/Warnings: You have big news for Dean. News you have to tell him, wether he likes it or not. You really hope he likes it, though.

Author's Note: Kind of a prequel to another fic of mine (Still You Want Me), but can be read alone. I just love putting big scary men in normal situations.

Word Count: 2.9k

You can do this. You’ve been to hell and back, you’ve killed angels, you’ve survived at least three apocalypses, and you’ve helped raise the Anti-Christ. This should, comparatively, be easy. 

It’s not. It’s the most daunting and terrifying thing you’ve ever done. It’s just words, but you’re going to choke on them because they could ruin your life. You’ve rehearsed in front of the mirror until your voice didn’t sound like yours anymore and nothing you said seemed real. It had been like repeating the same one word over and over again, until it’s nothing but an odd sound. Until it meant nothing.

But this has to mean something. You have to be able to say this to Dean, and you have to try and not get lost in the possibilities of how he’ll respond. He won’t leave you—Dean would never leave you—but he might tell you he doesn’t want this, and then you’ll have to make a choice. You don’t want to make a choice. You don’t want to hear Dean tell you that, with the lives you lead, this wouldn’t be a good idea. That it doesn’t matter what either of you want, because this isn’t something you get to have.

You want to have this, though. You want to have Dean and the baby. You want to have him as you’ve always had him before—strong and tired, always fighting because it’s all he knows how to do, but resting his head on your chest in the dark and humming against your lips when he kisses you—but you also want to have him in this new way. Where he’d smile for more reasons than just you and Sam and Cas. Where he’d get to direct some of that undying loyalty to someone who’d never be ungrateful, who’d would see him as a hero in a way he might finally believe. 

He’d be so good at it. Dean would spoil the kid, and teach them everything he knew, and care for them more than he’d ever care for himself. It breaks your heart sometimes, how he doesn’t kill himself for Sam, and he doesn’t drink himself to death for Cas, and he tries to get better for you, but he still doesn’t really know how to look in the mirror and not see a shadow.

And this would be the piece of him that’s never been tainted. The piece of him that crawls over you in bed just to hold you, that still watches cartoons and gets excited when he sees a cool car or hears an awesome drumline. The part of him that still cares, against all odds, and cares so much you’ve been worried it would kill him. The part of him that’s so simply made of light and love, crushed under years of his soul being bruised and beaten.

A part of him that won’t break. A part of him you love just as much as the rest of his wreckage, but that you still try to tend to, because you’ll love him the same if it vanishes, but you don’t think he deserves that. Dean deserves to only have that piece of him expand, to have it absorb all the love you throw at him, to grow until he can see it too. Until he can believe it’s there.

You know that it’s all so fucking hard. That Dean will never be all light, but you wouldn’t ever expect him to be. You know that a baby won’t fix him, not by far, but you also know it will show him he can create something. That he doesn’t poison everything he touches. 

That he made something entirely good, with you.

And if he tells you he doesn’t want this, you’ll live with that. You’ve lived with worse.

But you don’t even want to try to live with it. You’ll probably have to, but you’d like to pretend you won’t. 

The most you’re daring to pray for is that he doesn’t freak out. But angels don’t really take your calls anymore. 

So you’ll just have to hope.

You’ve set this up perfectly. There’s a pie in the oven that you will not let burn. There’s bacon and pancakes on a plate waiting for him when he finally gets his ass up. You have the whole bunker to yourself, because Sam’s off to see Eileen.

You’re not allowed to tell Dean that—Sam says he gets annoying—but you will in order to get him in a better mood. Sam’s fatal mistake was believing that you wouldn’t do anything to make Dean happy. So this is really on Sam. He’s the one that introduced you to Dean in the first place. Just because you were his friend first doesn’t mean he didn’t lose your automatic allegiance the moment he said this is my brother and his brother was the hottest man you’d ever seen. 

Sam should’ve known better. His big head should’ve understood that letting you anywhere near Dean—let enough so close that you’d be allowed to fall in love with him—would have always resulted in you using his secrets against him to make Dean happy, so you could slip in the fact that you were pregnant with Dean’s baby as easily as possible. 

Like any sane person would.

Although you have been up for hours, after only sleeping two. And you might be losing your mind. But anyone would lose their mind in a situation like this. Waiting for their dumb boyfriend to wake up so they can change his life forever. 

But Dean’s still asleep. You’re starting to get worried. He usually sleeps in late, especially after hunts, but not this late. Not past noon, long enough for you to stress eat half of his pie, then make a whole second one. Not long enough for the coffee to go cold three times.

You’re about to go check on him when he appears in the kitchen door. Bleary eyes and mussed hair, his glazed eyes focusing slightly when they land on you.

He starts to shuffle towards you, and you forget everything you’d rehearsed. He looks sleepy and adorable, and you’ve seen him like this before but you’d like to see it a million times more. You’d like Dean to always drop his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your torso, to always slump over you with a low hum. To always kiss the crook of your neck and let out a long breath when your hands snake around his neck and your fingers tangle in his soft hair.

You could have him like this forever. 

You just have to tell him. 

“Dean-“

“Why’re you up.” He speaks against your skin, his voice slurring slightly, tugging you a little closer. “’S early.”

“It’s 3pm, baby.” You draw back to smile at him, and he just blinks at you. “You’ve been knocked out for fourteen hours.”

He shakes his head, pouting slightly as he takes your hand in his. “Nah. Doesn’t feel it. C’mon.”

Dean starts to walk away, taking you with him, and you’re snapped out of the daze.

“Wait,” You pull on his grip, and he turns with a frown. “Where are you going?”

“We’re goin’ back to bed.”

You give him an amused look, your affection briefly overpowering your panic. “We?”

He nods, tugging your hand in his until you’re pressed right against his chest. “Only up ‘cause you weren’t there. Need to get my girl back to bed, you need sleep too-“

You do need sleep, but until you tell Dean, you might as well be injecting caffeine right into your bloodstream.

“But I made you bacon-“

“Course you did.” He grins, pressing a light kiss to your nose. “You’re awesome, baby.” 

You feel your stomach flutter, and at this stage it has to only be nerves, but that doesn’t make anything easier. “Can we please eat?”

Dean hums, scanning carefully over your face. “You eat already?”

“I had some applesauce-“

“Then we’re good.” He starts to move again, and now you’re attached to him like a magnet. You couldn’t move away if you tried. “Bed.”

You’re frayed and wired and on edge, trying so hard to find the will to insist he stay and eat, but Dean’s so warm and suddenly you’re drunk on him. He’s sturdy and soft in all the right places, herding you back to bed with hands on your shoulders and mumbled praise about being his dream girl, making him bacon for breakfast and lovin’ him more than he deserves, and you wish you had enough backbone to just shout at him that he does deserve your love. He deserves whatever you can give him, including a baby that he needs to know about now before you explode.

But he gets you back into bed, splaying his body over yours and pinning you down.

“Didn’t see Sammy,” his head is buried in your chest, his voice muffled against your skin. “Where’dhe go?”

“Eileen’s.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, though.”

Dean chuckles, his hands drawing slow circles on your hips. “You’re a little backstabber, sweetheart. I’m never tellin’ you anything again.”

“I’m backstabbing Sam for you.” You shrug, smiling at the air. “I’d never backstab you.”

“’S exactly what a backstabber would say.”

You giggle. “You’re tired, Dean. Your brain’s not working right. Maybe if we get up-“

“Not getting up.” He grunts, squeezing your body. “Not until you get your own fourteen hours.”

“I’m okay, Dean-“

“No. Sleep.”

You sigh, squirming slightly under him. “You know, it’s bad for you to sleep in. It’ll mess up your circadian rhythm-“ 

Dean tilts his head up, frowning at you. “What’s going on with you?”

“I, um-“ You swallow, your whole body suddenly far too warm. “Huh?”

“You always make me sleep extra after hunts.” His voice is a little stronger, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why’re you suddenly trying to get me up?”

“Nothing’s going on-“

“No.” Dean’s sitting up now, rolling onto his back and pulling you over his lap, his gaze stern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong either-“

He says your name, squeezing your waist as he rubs his jaw. “Please just tell me. If it’s a body we can hide it, but I need to know if it’s a monster body or person body-“

“Why the hell would it be a person body-“

“I dunno, but if it is you gotta tell me, so I can grab the salt.” He cups your cheek, offering you on his charming, downright boyish grins. “I’m not letting any ghosts haunt your hot ass, babygirl.”

“Thank you.” You mumble, dropping your brow to his. “But it’s not a body.”

“So there is something.”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “But I… I’m not-“

“Hey,” Dean leans back, holding your gaze as he tucks some hair behind your ear. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’m helping you.”

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, like it’s simple. Like this will really be that easy. “For you? Always.”

It takes deep breathes, and hands curled in Dean’s t-shirt—gripping him hard, making sure he won’t fly away or vanish into the air when you speak—but you do it. You run over your entire rehearsal one last time and let it all go, because Dean’s right here, in front of you, and you just need to-

“I’m pregnant.”

You say it, and he doesn’t vanish into nothing. Dean just stares at you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them, and whispers, “With a baby?”

“Yeah, Dean.” You offer him a small smile. “A baby.”

“My- my baby?” 

You open your mouth with a slight frown, and Dean’s hand flies to cover your mouth before you can speak.

“Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just-“ He groans, his eyes seeming to drive right into your soul as his voice because hoarse. “You’re sure? That you’re… growing one?”

You wish you could read him better right now. You’d laugh at him saying growing one.

Instead you just nod, and it’s like something flips in Dean. He grins—wide and toothy and unrestrained—and you barely have time for the relief to hit when he’s kissing you. Long and deep and passionate, until you’re dizzy and grinding down onto him, falling over his chest and clinging to his shoulders.

“Dean,” you gasp as he dives down to kiss a line over your collarbone. “Shouldn’t we, shit-“ He starts suck on a soft spot behind your ear, and all your exhaustion is starting to catch back up with you, so everything is really just a haze. “Don’t we need to talk-“

“No,” he mutters, rutting slightly up into you and chuckling against your skin when you whine. “Just need you, baby, need to- son of a bitch!”

Dean’s yanks himself up and twists to his bedside table—his hand on your hips holding you steadily against him—scrambling around the drawers as he mutters low words you can’t hear.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your hand fisting in his shirt once more. “I mean, I know you might have doubts about-“

You’re cut off as Dean surges back up to kiss you again, this one shorter and soft, but still firm. 

“No doubts, sweetheart.” He mutters against your lips. “And I’m better than okay. I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.” You sigh, pulling back to scan over his face. “What was that, then?”

Dean smiles at you, and it’s… nervous. He’s almost never really, truly nervous, but this smile has no edge, no carefully designed charm. It’s just Dean, purely him, smiling at you like you’re holding his heart in your body.

You kind of are.

“I know I, uh, I don’t say it enough. You know I’m not good at saying it. But I do love you,” Dean says your name, and you blink at him. This sounds like a speech. “I love you so much it drives me insane. And I’d never want this, want a baby, with anyone but you. But, I, uh, I want all of this. Whole stupid, apple pie thing, just with you.” He takes a long breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “Marry me.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Marry- shit, wait-“ Dean reaches slightly behind him, grabbing a small box, and pops it open with his thumb. There’s a diamond ring inside, and it looks like a real one. Not the ones you’d use on cases, that would give you a rash for a week after. This looks… carefully made.

Made for you.

“Dean-“

“Marry me?” Dean looks between your slack jaw and the box, his voice almost nervous. “Please?”

“I-“ This is going better than you could’ve ever even imagined. You’re not sure how to handle it. “I don’t want you to marry me just because you knocked me up-“

“Baby, I didn’t pull this ring out of my ass.” He drawls, his voice a little firmer. “I’ve been getting ready to ask you for months. I was going to kick Sammy out next week, make a picnic in the library-“

“Really?”

“Yeah, I-“ He frowns. “Why’d you think I was poking about your ring size?”

“I don’t, um, I don’t remember you doing that.”

Dean laughs, shaking his head slightly. “That’s good. I was worried I ruined it. I, um-“ he glances down at the ring, his face falling back to the nerves, and you realize you haven’t actually answered him yet. “I haven’t-“

It’s your turn to kiss Dean, and these words aren’t difficult to say at all. “Yes,” you whisper, pressing another, smaller kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll marry you.”

“Awesome.” He grins, and the ring is barely on your finger when he’s diving back into you, kissing you until you can’t ever remember anything has been difficult in your life. 

You yawn right as Dean pulls away, and he chuckles. 

“You alright, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m good. So good. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dean says your name in your ear, and it’s quiet and gentle. Not like a secret, but a promise. “How’s a day in bed sound? We can try and get you pregnant again.”

“That’s not how it works, babe.” You giggle, folding a little deeper into his hold. “I’m gonna have to buy you some books.”

“I’ll read them.” Dean kisses the top of your head, and you can feel his smile on your skin. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“Course.” He sighs, squeezing your body slightly. “We’re having a fucking baby.”

“Yeah.” You smile, and there’s that piece of him, shining on the surface. All joy and wonder for something that’s really just good. “We are.”

End Note: Dean Winchester in my head this is indeed the life you live every day. Season 15 isn't real it can't hurt me.

Title from Waste by Foster the People

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[andhumanslovedstories]

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.

[nickfowlerrr]

once more with feeling

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!actress!reader (reader is not a student)

warnings: mdni. no smut. flirting. i’d label this as soft horny if that were a thing lol. edward/guy moratz makes a short appearance. not much else really but self-indulgence at its finest. reader is probably minimum twenty five but you can imagine whatever age 21 and up you'd like and it should read alright.

words: 5185

notes: this was originally going to be a professor bucky x reader fic but then i got the idea for auditioning reader and then i thought oh! what if i wrote for my latest obsession - edward/guy! so then it was gonna be guy x actress reader but then i realized i kept picturing bucky and i’ve missed writing for him so then it changed again into professor bucky but now with actress reader and that’s where i landed with it even though i think this would work so well with guy as our guy and truth be told upon rereading myself i did start to picture him instead of bucky ha but ANYWAY this is buckys fic but if you wanna picture guy that works pretty well too 🤭 writing this was a nice distraction from the craziness of life lately and i hope you enjoy it. also just to say it - if you haven’t had the chance to watch a different man yet, you absolutely should. it’s great.

pls lmk your thoughts! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and more than welcome. 🩵

Goosebumps have risen all over your skin as you sit in the uncomfortable auditorium seat. Your legs are freezing thanks to the dress you don; despite its length, the fabric doesn’t provide much warmth and you can’t help but shake just a touch as another chill comes over you. You wrap your arms as tightly as you can around yourself but it too does little to help. The shrug cropped cardigan keeps your arms covered but the cold still chills - even inside the walls of this classroom auditorium.

This was a stupid idea, you accept far too late.

Granted, your planned outfit originally saw you in lined leggings to help fight the cold of the season, but after your little trip down the stairs on your way here - despite having held the skirt of the dress up to avoid such a fall to begin with! - you decided to toss the ripped and coffee soaked leggings and keep on instead of doing what the universe clearly was screaming at you to do: Go back to your apartment, take those god forsaken heeled shoes off, and put on something simpler. You were trying too hard.

Maybe you were. But you couldn’t care. You needed this. And when do you get to wear a dress like this on the daily? It fits the mood and works for the role without being a costume. You may feel a little uncomfortable, you don’t wear dresses out often, but you don’t think you’ve really made the wrong choice.

You were last on the audition sign in sheet so thankfully no one would be left to watch you the way you’d just studied the twelve other girls reading for this role.

They all dressed casually, had book bags with them, it was obvious they all attended this school. And here you were! A college dropout, overdressed in comparison, and clearly out of place.

Ah, you’re getting too in your head again. Always looking for a reason why something won’t go your way. But you’ve been working on that, and calling yourself out seems to help.

You take a deep breath as the last girl clears the stage and the casting table speaks amongst themselves.

You haven’t been able to see any of their faces, only the backs of their heads. You aren’t sure if there are students or faculty at the table with them but you figure it doesn’t really matter.

The casting call said all were welcome to audition - student or not. The location was only at the college because of renovations on the theatre in the city.

…It did say that, right? You’re not auditioning for a college show, right?

Your heart begins to pick up speed as you worry. Did you read it wrong? Were you making things up? You scramble for your phone and as you pull up the email the city theatre sent out last week, your name is called.

You don’t have the chance to reread it before you shut your phone off and tuck it away in your bag, placing it on your seat as you stand. You take a breath as you smile as confidently and friendly as you can and make your way down to the stage.

“That’s me,” you say as they watch you.

Finally you’re able to see their faces and as you make eye contact with each of them you can feel them sizing you up. Three people sit at the folding table before the stage and one man sits a bit further back in the second row of auditorium seats. He has yet to look up from his book and you realize you hadn’t noticed him at all earlier.

A younger man at the casting table, no more than 30 if you’d had to guess, tilts his head as he watches you ascend the few steps to the stage.

“So,” he states your name again, “do you attend classes here?”

“No,” you answer with a small shake of your head, “no I’m not a student.” You work to maintain your easy smile as you feel all eyes on you.

The man nods and turns to speak to the man still sitting and reading behind him. “Well, Mr. Barnes,” he gets his attention finally, “no pressure to stay. All the students have been seen, you’re free to go. This is the last audition for the day then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Until tomorrow when you’ll take over my auditorium again,” he rumbles lowly as he stares at the man who is still looking at him.

You swallow hard as you do the same. His eyes are bright despite his obvious annoyance, his dark hair pushed back as he tries to keep it out of his face, only a couple silver strands shining through the dark chestnut brown; the stubble that covers his jaw adds to his air of gruffness - the spot of gray near his chin adding to his appeal. He’s tall, you gather as your eyes move down his body, his long legs. He wears dark slacks and a baby blue button up dress shirt tucked into his pants. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, giving just a hint at his chest hair and the chain that hangs around his neck.

You realize you’re staring as you hear the voice of the younger man responding to Mr. Barnes, but you don’t hear what he’s saying as you force yourself to look away. Your eyes blink up and you’re caught. His blue eyes are on you, brows furrowed and his expression unreadable. You quickly look away and pretend you weren’t doing a thing as you wait for them to give you the go ahead.

Some more words are exchanged as they seem to try and appease the man whose classroom they are in. You’re not entirely paying attention to the conversation as you run your lines in your head for the millionth time.

You know the words. You know the part. You’re not worried, necessarily. But you haven’t booked a single thing in the past eight months and to say that hasn’t shaken your confidence in yourself even just a little bit would be a lie. But you’re getting back to your roots. You’ve missed the theatre. It was and will forever be your first love. This is your first stage audition in a while though, and your first experience with this theatre. Since moving to the city, you swore you’d audition for one of their shows but just never got around to it as your focus shifted to film. This is your time now. Is it going exactly how you’d envisioned it’d go? Well, you’re standing in a university campus auditorium instead of the stage at the Fervent Fires Theatre to audition, so, no. But that’s okay! You have a good feeling about this. And as you stand here, you feel more and more relaxed. It’s kind of bringing you back to your high school days - the annoyed teacher having to share the auditorium with the annoying theatre people. It’s funny.

And after seeing the other girls audition you really don’t feel too stressed. Most of them were late teens auditioning for Elmire. Despite the fact you played her in your late teens, too, that was simply because the production was full of other teens and young adults. You’re definitely more of the right fit even now. You’ve seen some of the theatre's productions before and who and how they tend to cast. Granted this is second day auditions and everyone else who has been seen might be in your league, but you won’t dwell on who you may be compared to - and you kind of needed the confidence boost today.

You take a breath and remind yourself you know what you’re doing. Whether you get a callback or not, just being on a stage again, acting in front of people again, you’ve needed this. It’s good.

You come back to yourself, out of your head and more at ease and hear Mr. Barnes as he speaks.

“And I appreciate being ‘free to go’ but I’m fine right where I am. Seeing as how this is my classroom, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, no, of course not. I just meant that if you wanted to go, you were free to, are free to, do, ya know, whatever you want. We were under the impression you were required to be here as a faculty member during student’s auditions, but, uhm, yes, of course. We aren’t trying to push you out or anything,” he smiles before nervously clearing his throat and turning back to face the table. He shuffles around the papers before him and you see him pull your headshot and resume to the front of his stack, grabbing his notes and pen before turning his gaze to you.

“Alright, sorry about that. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Their eyes are all on you. The casting table, and the man behind them. He’s set his book down next to him, has his hands folded in his lap as he sits back in his seat, casual and intent all at once, while his brilliant blue gaze is set right on you.

-

The audition is a blur, it goes by so fast. As you thank them for their time, you’re surprised when they offer you more information they hadn’t given out before.

“Callbacks will be next Tuesday and they’ll be at the actual theatre. We’ve been under construction all month but should be good to go next week. We appreciate you taking the time to come audition here, we know it’s a little out of the way in comparison.”

“Not a problem at all, it actually isn’t too far from me,” you smile.

“Good, well, keep a look out for an email with more details and…” the director on the end of the table looks up to you as if she’s catching herself from revealing a secret, then sighs, “ah, screw it, you’re definitely on the callback list,” she smiles, “we’ll see you there.”

“Amazing,” you breathe, “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you again, so much,” you can’t help your grin as you walk closer to the steps of the stage.

The casting table packs their things as you walk past them back to where you were sitting before. You’d left your bag and half drinken coffee so you make to go get it. As you pass the first few rows, you feel Barnes’ stare again, this time only fleeting as his name is called from the young man who spoke to him before.

“This table?”

“You can leave it,” he states, sounding bored.

“Okay. Thank you again for letting us use the stage, we really do appreciate it.”

You don’t hear him reply as you hear the casting team leave out the door.

The realization you’re the last one left intruding on this man has you hurrying up.

Until you hear his voice again.

“You were good.”

You turn at the compliment, wide eyed as you see him coming closer up the steps. Your heart seems to skip a beat and you wonder what he’s doing until he bends down a few rows before you and picks up an empty coffee cup someone must have left earlier.

You’re caught a bit off guard but force your mouth to work after a second, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nods as he stands back up straight. You watch as he tosses it easily into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs before he turns back to look at you again.

You were right. He’s tall, and somehow even more attractive than you’d originally thought now that you’re seeing him even closer.

“I’m no director, but from what I’ve seen yesterday and today, if I was casting, you’d be it.”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm despite how cold the auditorium still is, “that’s,” you laugh a little under your breath, “that’s really nice to hear, thank you.” You have to look down as his gaze is just a little too much for you right now. You don’t need to fall down another set of stairs today and if you let yourself get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his, you’re almost certain you will.

“You seem more shy off stage than you do on,” he comments, taking another step up the stairs, another step closer to you.

“Yeah,” you titter nervously, “um, I’m an actor, ‘m pretty good at faking it when I have to.”

He raises his brow at your unintentional innuendo and immediately you catch yourself. You feel like you’re on fire and you see something in his eyes, almost like he’s working himself up to reply as he takes the last step he needs to be on the same level as you.

“You fake it a lot?”

Your lips move as if you have words to speak but nothing comes out as he stares at you and you stare back.

God, he smells good. And he’s so tall. And muscular. And pretty.

You blink as you try to break yourself free from this trance.

Is he hitting on you? You don’t even know this man’s name and yet there’s a fluttering in your tummy at the way he’s eyeing you. His gaze roves down your body, over your soft curves that are accentuated by the corset dress hugging you. His tongue darts out as he wets his lips seemingly without thought and that familiar desire that’s been plaguing you the last six months since your breakup has you fidgeting where you stand. He’s so effortlessly hot and the thought of getting on your knees right here and now for him hits you out of nowhere and only burns you further. Wow, where did that come from?

You haven’t been with anyone since you ended things with Nick, and you may be horny, but you’re not desperate… Are you?

You swallow hard and extend your hand to him, offering him your name as you do. He smiles with a deft chuckle, looking from your hand back up to your eyes before he takes your hand in his, seeming to ease some tension in him you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe not tension, maybe anxiousness? But no, that couldn’t be it. His smile is so easy there’s no way the word confident wouldn’t be in your top choices to describe him.

“James,” he supplies as you shake his hand. His big, warm hand that you can’t help but imagine the weight of if he were to place it on your waist. He squeezes you just a bit and another wave of your sudden desire rolls through you.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, sounding a lot more sultry than you ever intended. His lips quirk and he takes a second before he responds, again, you get the funny feeling he’s working himself up to say what he does.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks bluntly, waiting for your nod before he continues. “I saw you staring at me when you were on stage.”

Okay. Ha. Wow. You’re so hot you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming off your cheeks. God, you could just explode from your mortification at his words. Is he really calling you out like this, right to your face? Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to say. You suck your lips in your nervousness as you inhale a breath through your nose, letting your lips go as you suck your teeth when you release them. You look down as your tongue runs along the edges of your teeth. A nervous habit when you’re at a loss for words as you let out a breathy titter at being caught and having it brought up.

You hear a light laugh from him before your breath is stilled when he gently touches your chin, his touch warm as he tilts your face up so you’re looking at him once again.

You’re stalled in a sort of awe as his eyes seem to twinkle at you.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assures you, his voice smooth as silk, “I was staring back.”

The soft smirk on his lips lights you up as you unthinkingly wet your own. In any imagined scenario you would never have thought you’d be so receptive to a stranger coming on this strongly - so boldly and up front. But here you are. Receptive as hell. There’s something about him, about his approach, that has you even more attracted to him than you were at first glance…er, stare. His voice, his attitude, the way he’s looking at you. As if he knows exactly what he wants, and he’s going for it. As if the very thing he wants right now, is you.

“Your eyes alone are captivating, but there’s something else about you,” he muses, “you got on stage and it was like I couldn’t look away.”

You almost have to force yourself to take a breath before you can talk. “The dress,” you quip with a small shrug.

“The dress,” he looks down at your body once more, a funny fluttering setting your core alight under his gaze, “well it definitely helped. It’s nice,” he compliments, his hand reaching to touch the fabric and grazing your hip. At his touch his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction and, seeing what you’re sure is a dreamy like haze, he goes on. “Look, I have to teach a class here in half an hour so I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he says, a hint of an east coast accent slipping in and becoming clearer in his voice as he speaks, “I think you’re gorgeous. And I think you might think I’m not so bad myself,” he half smiles as his lips twitch. “I know this is forward,” his eyes meet yours once more, “and there’s no expectation here.”

Your brows raise despite yourself as you wait for him to go on. He licks his lips again and takes a step closer to you.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You inhale sharply as you pause, your lips parting with the breath.

Weirdly some far off part of you was kind of expecting that was where this was leading, but in the very same breath, you really were not expecting him to say that. Your mouth goes dry and your mind goes blank as you try and process his words. You know your immediate, no thought involved answer. But surely, this calls for some thought, doesn’t it?... It’s not like anonymous sex isn’t a thing, it’s just never been your thing. But you do have the rest of the day free and you’re riding on a kind of confidence high at the moment, and god is this man tempting.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he stares at you, studying you and waiting for your yes or no.

“You do this a lot?” you ask instead.

He breathes a soft chuckle, “Never, actually,” he shakes his head, “but I’ve been out of the game for a while, recently been told I need to put myself out there, and I guess I don’t really know how to be anything other than direct these days.”

“Hm,” you look into his bright eyes, a sincerity there you don’t find in people often these days, “I guess I can appreciate that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Fuck it, you think. You’ve been pushing past your normal comfort zones all day. What’s a little sex with a hot stranger? …Right? You’re seconds away from saying yes, how could you not, you egg yourself on, but you figure you should make this as clear as you can. Not that his answer has much chance of changing yours.

“Is this just sex? Or…” you trail off.

“At the very present moment,” he specifies, “just sex.”

You nod in easy understanding, readily taking it for what it is, but he continues on.

“And if you wanna leave it at that, we’ll leave it at that, but if you’re interested in dinner later tonight, too, I’d be glad to buy. Pick you up and everything.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you simper with a titter you can’t suppress. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm,”

“Sex?”

You nod with a smirk as he closes the gap between your bodies.

“Right now?” he adds again, getting the same response as you smile against his lips when he leans in closer.

He kisses you. You’re immediately lost to him as his lips touch yours, his stubble tickling your soft skin. It’s surprisingly tentative, slow and soft at first, like he’s testing the waters between you. After a long moment, he decides to pull away, not too far, only parting for a split second. You're struck by the fleeting feeling of his lips being on yours, it steals your breath as you mindlessly lean into him immediately looking for more. Your eyes meet again, there’s a glimmer of shared recognition and you know he feels the same, and then his lips are on yours even more hotly. You’ve always thought people were dramatic when they spoke about having sparks with someone, that it wasn’t a real experience, just hyperbole… exaggeration, but you’re realizing now you just hadn’t ever experienced it before. That spark, that zing, it is real. It must be, because as crazy and sudden as it is, you think you have it here.

His hand comes to hold your head, keeping you close as he leads you. You might be embarrassed by the way you melt into him if you were thinking of anything other than how good his touch is and how perfect his lips seem to meld with yours.

You’re filled with a thrilling excitement you don’t know you can compare to anything you’ve felt before. This is new and nice and as the kiss deepens, your nerves turn from jittery butterflies in your belly to a smoldering desire that burns lower and lower. His firm body is pressed to your soft one and his free hand falls to the tail of your back, holding you closer and keeping you there against him before his hand snakes to your hip, wandering up your curves as he feels as much of you as he can. Your own hands are against his stomach as you chase his kiss, fingers fisting the fabric of his button down shirt.

James nips at your bottom lip and you give him entry without a pause, his tongue slipping in your mouth as he kisses you fervently, like something out of a movie. You’ve never been in a situation like this, and you can say with certainty you’ve never been kissed like this either.

You let your hands slide up his torso until you find the first button. As if you’ve done it a million times, you easily begin the tedious task of unbuttoning each one - though you take your time, not wanting to break any as you’re still caught in his hold, still lost in his kiss.

You hate having to break away but you need a breath and despite the loss of contact with your lips, James’ continues to travel along your skin. From your cheek to your jaw and down your neck as you angle yourself to allow him more access, all the while your fingers do their work and your breathing turns heavier. Once the buttons are undone you pull the tails of his shirt from his pants. His hands are still on you, feeling you as he kisses your delicate skin.

Your hands stabilize yourself by holding his sides as he yanks you closer to him still. He’s much thicker than he looked, you realize as you touch him. Your hands wander up his back, wanting to get his undertank off as soon as humanly possible so you can really feel the muscles there.

He brings an arm around your waist and his other hand glides down your back until he gets to your bottom, groaning in your neck as he squeezes you there.

“Buck?”

A loud voice breaks the trance the two of you have been under and causes you to jump as you hear the doors closing and footsteps coming around the side staircase, bringing a different man into view.

You’re startled, and James gallantly moves you just behind him despite your still fully clothed state. You’re still grateful though, you know you must look a little mussed, your cardigan falling down your arms and James’ undone shirt hardly producing any air of innocence about what was unfolding just moments ago.

“Oh, sorry,” the man starts with inquiring eyes, looking between the both of you. He’s just as tall as James and has eyes just as blue. He’s clean shaven, though and not as bulky. Still, they look like they could be brothers. “Professor?” he asks, “Am I interrupting something?”

“She’s not a student, Guy,” James responds, annoyance clear as day in his voice. “I’m not Drysdale.”

“Right,” Guy says on a light, breathy laugh, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He seems uncomfortable at the mention. You see him as he eyes James’ still undone shirt.

“What do you need, Guy?” James asks firmly, getting his eyes back on him.

“It can wait,” he brushes off, “just wanted to say thanks for letting the theatre use the stage again, we appreciate it.” His eyes flick to you and he seems to make a connection. “Elmire?”

Your eyes meet his in surprise, “Um, yeah,” you nod with a small smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, arms crossed over your chest.

“Tartuffe,” he gestures to himself with a smile of his own. You suddenly recognize him and take a step forward.

“Wait, did I see you in Death of a Salesman the other month?”

“Yes,” he smiles even more sincerely now, “yes, it’s the year of the classics at the theatre,” he chuckles.

“Right, yeah, you were incredible. Really great performance,” you compliment him.

“Thank you very much. I heard good things just now about your audition, I’m assuming you’re -,”

James interrupts Guy by supplying your name himself, causing you both to look at him. You fight a smile at the sound of it on his lips.

“Well then,” Guy looks back toward you, clearing his throat a bit, “I will be seeing you at your callback,” he turns to James, “and I will be seeing you in the office later.”

He takes a step back, “It was nice to meet you, and thank you again, Bucky.”

The name catches your attention as Guy walks off and James turns back to face you.

He sighs as he looks at you, reaching for your hand which you allow him to take.

His touch is deceptively delicate and you can’t pretend you don’t like it.

“Bucky?” you question. He meets your gaze and gives a sheepish half smile.

“Nickname.”

You nod, “Ah. Makes sense,” you lilt, holding his eye. “Suits you.”

“You can call me Bucky if you’d like. Like the way it sounds when you say it.”

You huff a laugh, looking away. He continues on, “I’m sorry for that interruption, I uhm,” he let’s go of your hand and moves to start buttoning his shirt back up, “I think we’re gonna have to try this again later,” he pauses, glancing back to you, “if you’re still-,”

“I am,” you smile, cutting him off.

He finishes tucking in his shirt and then immediately takes another step closer to you.

His eyes are scrutinizing in the best way as he takes your face gently in his hands, your own coming to hold his wrists; his bright gaze shining into your own. It feels intimate but strangely…right.

“I guess I should be thanking Guy,” he muses. Your brows furrow in unvoiced questioning. His lips quirk at the face you make. “I was taking the advice of someone I’d never normally take advice from being so forward with you. Honestly, it’s not really me,” he admits, admiring the soft smile of your own gracing your lips at his words. “I’m more of the courting type.” You laugh brightly at his choice of words as he smirks. “Old fashioned, I know.”

“No, that’s..That’s good. More my speed. I was uh, stepping a little ways out of my comfort zone with this myself.”

The want that had been burning between you two wasn’t exactly boiling over at the moment, but despite the space between you now, it was still there... Call it a low simmer.

He pulls you closer as you wet your lips and his nose brushes yours. You’re certain he’s about to kiss you and your eyes flutter shut but instead, Bucky pulls away. He lets you go as he bites his own lip and you both hear the opening of the door again before you hear multiple footsteps follow in.

“My class is starting soon. But,” he gets his phone from his back pocket and hands it to you, “we’re still on for dinner?”

You take his phone with a demure smile, feeling somewhat grateful for the shift in direction, and send yourself a text message, saving your contact in his phone before handing it back, his fingers grazing your own. “I’d really like that.”

Students begin to file in and get seated around the auditorium as you stand with Bucky.

You turn to grab your bag and your coffee cup, then face him again. You glance around and notice you’re still relatively alone, most of the students have sat toward the middle of the auditorium, and no eyes seem to be on you, but you keep your voice low anyway.

“And I do get it if you really want to go slow here, but, if you want to…ya know, try this,” you raise your brows, hoping to communicate your meaning, “again, tonight, I’d be up for that, too.”

He nods, a schoolboy smile on his lips as he admires you.

Your lips twitch with a smile of their own, “I’ll see you later.”

You feel a renewed giddiness as you turn from him and he returns your ‘bye’. His eyes are on you as you make your way down the steps and follow you until he can’t any further. You liked the feeling.

Call you crazy, but you think you just might be developing feelings for Bucky already as it is, despite not knowing much more than he seems to be a kind man, gentle, confident, insanely attractive…. You wouldn’t be surprised if this dinner solidified those feelings and more, even further. You’re looking forward to talking with him, really getting to know him.

You may not be one for sex with a stranger, but sex after the first date doesn’t sound too out there for you... Especially not when that date is with Bucky.

[fernpetals]

Precious

An extension of THIS ask

More of Yandere John Wick and his dollification-kink

Warning: Stalking, manipulation, hints of infantilization, implied restraining, implied age-gap, NSFW, John is soft but dark, tracking,dollification(obviously), a hint of corruption kink

Credit to the GIF owner.

Unedited Piece.

I kind of lost myself with this one. Note that the reader does not understand Russian in this one. So if any of my readers do, I apologise.

Precious. That is what you are to John. He sees you as precious and fragile. Especially if you are a civilian working a regular job. That is the most unfortunate of circumstances for you. Canon John is protective as such. Imagine yandere John—he is paranoid that something or someone is going to hurt you. There is a tracker somewhere in your car, and you are never going to find out. And your phone? He has the right connections—people who have your phone bugged for him.

And most probably, all this happens even before he is ‘officially’ your boyfriend. In his eyes, the proposal is simply a formality, just so that you don’t freak out. 

Once in a relationship, it all turns worse. You don't want to move in with him so soon? It has been a month! His patience is now running thin. This might even be the cause of your first major disagreement or serious fight. If you choose to ignore him after that, even for a day, you are only making it worse for you. Suddenly, your home is broken in, thrashed or suddenly, you are locked out of your own home. The lock just wouldn’t open and it’s late at night. But either way, you don’t need to fear, John is just a call away. Or just happens to have been on his way to your place, to apologise, of course.

Sadly, this is just the beginning of manipulation and gaslighting.

Once he has you under his roof, there is no going back. Isn’t it strange? Some of your bathing and beauty products are already lined up in his bathroom cabinet.

 “I bought them just in case you decided to stay for weekends. I was thinking of inviting you over.”

It is reasonable but you can see through it. Anyone can—he is trying to ease you into living with him. It’s harmless in your eyes, only if you knew how far he has gone and is willing to go.

John loves it when you put on pretty dresses—your closet is slowly filled with more and more of them. Either it is a dress he has delivered to you, or left on your bed, or he simply appears with a random dress in a bag. 

“Thought it would look lovely on you.” 

It is incredible how he gets the measurement right, even before you both get intimate. It’s like his hands have a mind of their own, mapping your form even through simple touches.

The truth is, you are all in his mind, every touch, every trace is imprinted in John’s mind. It takes him incredible self-control to not have his hands all over you. His throat dries up when he gets to touch you, even if it seems innocent, a squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand

Expect random trips to a boutique of his choice, he makes you try on as many dresses as you want, and he wants and every time you give him a twirl, he has to remind himself that you both are in public. If he likes a dress a little too much, he will invite you to his lap.

“Aren’t you a pretty doll?” His eyes have the darkness that unsettles you, just for a moment, before you shake it off

John is a gentleman, a true gentleman. A catch really—that is what you firmly believe. At least until you move in with him and the mask begins to fall. 

Suddenly, you realise that you barely have time for yourself, your closet is filled with the dresses he likes the most and you never go out with your friends as often. In fact, it has been a while since you have gone out. You are always rushing home after work because John prefers that you do not stay out till late. When was the last time you had a night out with your friends?

But by the time you come to realise all this, it is too late, you are so deep in his lair, entangled in his web. It is not easy to keep a sane mind with the amount of times his head is buried between your legs, or his fingers or both. And let’s not talk about what a silly mess his manhood thrusting in and out of your slick folds makes you. 

Like Donaka, John too has a corruption kink. You do not know how cruel the world is, you are a precious angel in this hell on earth. He wants to protect you, he will protect you and take care of you, regardless of what you want but he also gets off at your surprised expression when he bends you to a new position while your pleasure-drunk eyes look up at him. Only he will get to see that, of course. 

What would you do without him? You are going to work? He is dropping you, soon, you will see that you do not need to work at all. He is your protector and provider. You genuinely enjoy it? Well, you can continue what you do as a hobby, what is the need to take the pains of going to work every day?

John does not understand that. As I mentioned before, he sees you as something precious and fragile, a sweet doll that belongs to a safe, cosy, soft dollhouse. He makes sure that you have enough sleep, and enough nutrients and that you do not engage in any ‘dangerous’ activity. You do not need to cook, he will happily do that. If you insist on helping, he will let you mix things up, and even stir maybe, but you are staying away from hot oils and knives.

John is also the type who loves to kiss you on the cheeks for some reason, his lips softly touching your skin has a familiar warmth enveloping his heart. Even during intimate moments, he kisses you all over, like his lips tracing your body.

It is perhaps during the passionate, intimate moments that you get to see a glimpse of carefully concealed darkness. The sweet nothings make you blush. he says things in Russian that you have no idea of-

“You are meant to be fucked stupid and sleep soft and cosy in this bedroom, aren’t you? Why even bother stepping out? I have everything here for you.”

“Aren’t you pretty like this? My precious doll, all dressed up for me.”

“You were mine since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Should keep you here all the time, huh? It’s too dangerous outside.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“You are mine, aren’t you? All you need is me.”

“I could have just taken you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything…”

If you do manage to put the dots and confront him someday, he will try to manipulate you and if that doesn’t work and you still want to leave…Good luck. Besides, he will have a good laugh watching you trying to fight him. Might even be condescending and mean about it.

[johns-prince]

1967 is decidedly peak year for Lennon-McCartney as John and Paul were reportedly and observably the closest they ever been. Coming and going together, John always hanging around Paul's house, practically inseparable.

Then somewhere from the end of 1967 to the beginning of 1968, India happens, and just all of a sudden these two are having a falling out? For no real reason? Go on, you can't believe that.

1967, we know John and Paul started taking LSD together. While they were close before, tripping out like this gave them access to getting much closer to each other than before. We know the experience of dissolving into each other through that eye contact thing was described by Paul as both disturbing, but good, and other subsequent trips with John as fantastic because of this new access to each other in ways they hadn't realized was probably possible.

There really isn't much of John talking about these specific trips with Paul, but considering how insistent he had been to take LSD with Paul, and the fact they continued to take it together to the point even Jane was jealous of John getting to experience that with Paul—he was probably over the moon about it. Finally, he gets to experience this much much deeper connection with Paul, melds them into one, their thoughts and feelings becoming singular.

Aside from how much closer John and Paul had gotten, it seems the Beatles at a whole were as close as ever. You have their trip to Greece in the same year, and how there were talks about them buying an island and living on it together.

1967 was really the year for the Beatles, for John and Paul especially.

Still, there's reservations. Paul mentions how you can't come back from the kind of experience he shared with John. You could say that he meant between all them, but that's only because Paul has a habit of including the other two whenever he's uncomfortable with the strong use of “I, me, myself,” in conjugation with John in certain contexts. We were jealous, we loved him, we felt like he was leaving us. Paul only briefly mentions George and Ringo, like a second thought, when describing his first LSD trip with John.

But it was just Paul and John, and I'm sure there were many other subsequent trips that involved solely them.

So they can't go back. Their relationship has changed in a fundamental way that both excites and pleases and disturbs Paul. We can only presume John wasn't as disturbed by it as he was pleased by getting to have this closeness with Paul that no one else would be able to share in. It was all their own.

Paul loved the Lennon-McCartney relationship for everything that it was, but he probably didn't want it to swallow up his whole self/identity (which is normal) Additionally, while I believe Paul is actually pretty straight heterosexual male, I do believe he had this special exception for John—and how can you reconcile that? I don't think Paul had the emotional and mental capacity to quite start to confront the fact there was some romantic/sexual tension between him and John that couldn't just be explained away.

For comparison, Yoko was willing to let her whole identity be swallowed up in the JohnandYoko partnership and relationship that we know today. Because it was technically giving John everything he needed from a partner that would keep him satiated or delusional enough for her to keep him and his connections and finances under her thumb. Even when it inevitably frustrated her that she felt living and thriving off of John's coattails, she made the choice to forgo her individualism and identity for what being with someone like John could give her. There would be no Yoko Ono in the papers and in any relevance without John Lennon.

It was kind of a perfect storm because Yoko and John were both very insecure people, fearful of failure and being a failure and being left behind, whether that be by others or the world.

In another essay I would point out that Yoko got with John because she needed him, needed him to help her complete herself, to transform her into a cultural and artistic icon. I'm not sure she always necessarily wanted him by choice as she needed him as means to an end.

Paul didn't exactly need to be with John as much as he wanted to be John, he wanted to be by John, next to, creating, collaborating, existing with. That's why in a way it was kind of silly for John to fear Paul going off on a solo career after writing yesterday. If Paul wanted to leave John and the others he could've, but he didn't. He wanted to be a Beatle, he wanted to be John's partner, to continue making music together until they were old men. Paul chose to be with John because he wanted to be. Simple as.

Anyway, Paul might have his own complexes and issues but Paul wasn't dealing with the black hole in his chest like John was. He had his insecurities, but Paul never needed to meld his entirety with another to try and make himself complete. Paul was much more secure in himself than John, even if he had to fake it at times, Paul always seemed to know himself better. Paul didn't carry around a self-hatred and lack of self worth like John did.

From an outsiders perspective, I can't fault Paul for not either wanting to be John's everything and anything, and not being able to be that infinite everything and anything for John—because of the time, the place, the sex, all the psychosexual bullshit in between, and because in the end it probably would've devoured them.

I doubt John knew how to deal with it either. John was always prone to extremes, one or the other, you love me fully unconditionally or you don't. What made the whole affair unfair was that he had the hardest time believing anyone could love him fully unconditionally. And Paul did (he still does!) but there's only so much a normal human being with flaws and hangups of his own can take.

By 1968 it seemed like John was hardly in a great state—increasingly abusing substances, feeling completely trapped by his first marriage (no fault of Cynthia, she tried so hard to make it work and make him happy), smothered by expectations, Brian's death (he's cursed y'know, everyone who's ever loved him dies on him), and probably some kind of mental illness brought on by it all—John wouldn't have been in a very stable mindset to really consider or even care too much about any repercussions about leaving his first wife and child to then go gallivanting as a free man, with his best male friend, collaborator, and partner.

But Paul, steadfast, moderate and conservative, not yet completely in the mental anguish shitter like John is, would be conscious enough of these consequences, what it could mean for the band, for them. These things mattered. And maybe John's a special case but Paul's not gay so how could it work to begin with? If he can't make any justifications for it or excuses (maybe if I had been a girl I could have...) then it just can't be done.

Yeah we love each other yeah we want to be in each others pockets till the day we croak, we feel like we NEED each other like air in lungs (yeah we might've fucked) but there's nothing to do about it so we just need to go on like usual and keep it at that.

Because it worked fine before, the way we were dealing with it. Why try to fix something that isn't broken?

But it was broken.

John wanted more but Paul couldn't give it to him. Paul has a right to how he feels, we can never say exactly what, and he wasn't in any wrong in denying or rejecting John if that's what happened.

But, I've always believed too that Paul always had an unrealistic expectation of his own relationship with John.

Because it's just not fair to expect John to keep on going on like everything is normal and his relationship with Paul and all the feelings and wants that entails are normal.

Not holding similar feelings for a friend is just as valid as holding deeper feelings for a friend and finding you can't stay friends due to not being able to go back on these feelings.

But why couldn't Paul have John, and Linda, and a big family, and John. Why can't he have his cake and eat it to. Why couldn't John have his relationship with Yoko and still have his partnership with Paul.

Because they aren't normal best friends that's why. Their partnership wasn't normal. Even Paul admits to it. Paul had to “make way” for Yoko because in a sense he was John's first girlfriend. Of course Yoko couldn't be secure in her marriage with John if Paul was still in the picture. Even if Paul doesn't understand the depth of meaning behind this because he's preposterous doesn't make it any less obvious. And don't think for a second John would've made it any easier for Linda, and like hell Linda would've put up with it.

So, John was “if we can't be lovers we can never be friends,” and Paul was, “I'll have my cake and I'll eat it to.”

I'm not trying to paint anyone as a villain in this. Both sides are understandable, both sides don't actually want to lose the other, both sides love each other, they just have different perspectives and feelings on the matter.

It's whether these differences can be reconciled and reasonable compromises can be made.

But we're talking about John and Paul and as we know, these differences were not reconciled and they were not reasonable men to be making reasonable compromises. Also they were two men.

John wanted all or nothing. Paul couldn't give all, because it's unrealistic and because Paul probably already thought he was giving John as much of him as he could reasonably give. But it wasn't enough.

If they could have kept each other and their relationship as it was despite getting married, I do believe Paul would have had no problem keeping Linda and his kids in one box, and his special little relationship with John in another box. They were able to do it before with John's marriage to Cynthia, why couldn't the same apply?

We know why. Cynthia was never a real, genuine threat to Paul and the Beatles (but mainly Paul) in the end, John always chose to go off the other boys, to go stay nights over at Paul's home instead of staying home with his wife and kid. She simply didn't interfere.

The many girls Paul screwed around with, while certainly put John on edge, and he hardly liked or got along with any, weren't anything too serious and at that time John was willing to put up with it or he hadn't the capacity to really evaluate his life as it was and his relationship and feelings towards Paul.

But Linda was a genuine threat. She wasn't going away. Paul loved her, she could give him everything. And what could that mean for John, especially if he had been making his feelings known, he was pushing for something deeper, definitive, with Paul? How could John stand a chance.

Yoko was nothing like Cynthia. How John treated her and their relationship was nothing like his last marriage. Paul was no longer the sun in John's universe, it was Yoko, and for once Paul was actually put on edge, similar to that of Stu, if not worse. She was his wife, his partner, a woman, a girl. Since Paul wasn't a girl then what chance did he have to put a stop to it, what right did he have to say anything?

John starting it by bringing Yoko into their sessions as if to make a point. Maybe Paul got the point of he didn't not entirely but maybe he was tired and can't Paul McCartney get a little tired of these games when he's hopped skipped jumped and crawled to try and prove to John each time that yes I love, yes I won't leave you willingly, yes I'll put up with you because I love you and you love me right? We're in this together for the long haul.

Can't go back to compartmentalizing relationships outside of Lennon-McCartney, and it seemed their relationship couldn't remain as it were with wives and children between them. Things were different now, they were different. John and Paul had grown, and while their past comments about sticking together as partners even after the Beatles go bust, even in their old age, is cutesy and sweet and coming from young boys who really didn't know any better but knew they loved each other and loved creating together—what's to become of them now that Pandora's box had been opened.

It's all led up to the point when things begin to breakdown, the band starts to pull apart, relations splinter, and John starts bringing up divorce, divorce from the Beatles, divorce from Paul.

The details we won't be privy to, we can only speculate and theorize and piece the puzzle pieces. But it's such a short time frame for such a massive change from John and Paul's relationship in 1967—almost always found together, John at Paul's home, John and Paul arriving together to the studio, taking walks, dissolving into each other—to how they treated and behaved toward each other in 1968, especially after India.

Without proper communication, without making the effort to confront the reality of what they were to each other and what that might mean, plus the drugs and the alcohol, I'm not surprised these unexplained feelings between them began festering.

I've lost the plot somewhere halfway in the post. But something happened.

The final straw was probably in India. But before India, the tension must have been building, like the calm before a storm. Taking LSD together changed the way they saw their relationship, or maybe simply gave them a more honest approach to it, a much less inhibited understanding of what they meant to each other. It scared Paul, or worried him, but he still liked it, which might've been just as worrisome. John was probably thrilled about it, loved experiencing it with Paul, and it might have enlightened him further on what he actually wants. Though drugs should never be trusted. Then Brian died. The Beatles were shattered with grief. John was beginning to spiral. And then it was 1968, and in February the boys went to India. Everything changed significantly there. John and Paul spent a lot of time alone in one room. They were seen together a lot. John often gazing. Something happened. Something happened and we don't know what but it did. Sex? Maybe, maybe not. A confession? Maybe, maybe not. They come back, worse than for better. John works tirelessly to break Paul's heart and drive him to some sort of reaction. To fight, to stay. Love me love me. Paul couldn't or wouldn't because "if I had been a girl then maybe I could have..." but he wasn't so he they had to make way for Yoko. Paul loves Linda, John loves Yoko. They get married a week apart. John and Paul divorce the Beatles breakup. John really didn't actually ever love Paul and they didn't grow up in the same bed or write eyeball-to-eyeball and hey did you know he loved Yoko because she reminds him of a bloke in drag? She's me in drag. John actually manages to instill some of that insecurity and fear in Paul—about his talent, about who he is on his own, whether or not John ever loved actually him. They fight nasty like bitter exes. Paul is the first to lay down the arms with Dear Friend. John responds with Jealous Guy. They're on and off. Paul continues to try to make the effort to connect with John again, despite John and despite Yoko. The lost weekend happens, a total mystery in itself. Calls are missed and time still passes. John comes to the inevitable conclusion that he still loves Paul no matter how hard he tries to not love him, that he can't escape. John backtracks a lot. They start talking again. They occasionally see each other. They rent a studio to use after the new year in 1981. John is suddenly killed in December of 1980. Paul keeps John's name and legacy alive for years and years and years. Paul reminisces about their shared past like a widower. Their relationship will be compared to a marriage, a love affair like that of Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, and even soulmates. They are only ever known as brothers, collaborators, and friends.

The greatest songwriting duo that ever was. The lovers that never were.

[tossawary]

A while back, I had a playthrough of the PS5 "Spider-Man" game going on in the background, and I don't actually remember much from it, but it did do one thing that reeeeeally annoyed me at the time. Although, admittedly, I am not sufficiently familiar with the comics to criticize any of the writing choices with citations.

See, in this game, they had a redheaded love interest for Peter Parker named Mary Jane Watson, BUT this MJ was a journalist. In fact, there were a couple stealth sequences where the player briefly played as journalist MJ investigating some organized crime group.

And I had to stop working to squint at the screen for a while, because I couldn't remember anything about any movie, cartoon, or comic MJ ever doing any work as an investigative journalist. I'd thought that she was a model and actress??? I'd been under the impression that MJ had more of a party girl persona, at least outwardly.

I had to stew on why I disliked this choice, but I concluded that I hated the idea that female characters and their ambitions could be interchangeable. Not all people's personal identities are irreversibly intertwined with their careers, but some definitely are, and for others, career choices are still going to say something about their personality and background.

There are some characters who can job-hop across a wide variety of jobs and it doesn't impact their general characterization much. But there are other characters where I'm like, "If they lost their job, they would have an identity crisis and struggle to shift industries." Someone who is an academically minded scientist is not always going to have an easy transition into a profit-oriented sales job. Someone who likes to fix things with their hands is probably going to dislike switching to a job filling out spreadsheets. Someone who hates kids is probably not going to be a good teacher. Someone who was really professionally ambitious may not adjust well to being a stay-at-home parent, financially dependent on someone else and responsible for the well-being of a helpless little human being. And so on. All for various complicated human reasons.

I don't remember enough about the aforementioned game to be criticizing it specifically here. But generally speaking, I disliked the basic concept that a female character couldn't be interesting and challenging if she had a "shallow" and "feminine" career. I disliked the general concept that MJ could be "improved" as a character by being given a more "serious" / "intellectual" career. I disliked the idea that Peter Parker was REQUIRED to have a redheaded love interest named MJ, as per many preceding comics, but who MJ actually was as a person in terms of hobbies she enjoyed, ambitions she dreamed about, her opinions and fears and messy behaviors, could just be swapped out as if none of that internal richness mattered.

In my very basic knowledge, the "Spider-Man" comics have a wide cast of female characters, some of whom have been journalists or employees of the Daily Bugle! Peter has had MANY love interests over the years! And MJ apparently being "shallow" gave her specific (admittedly often misogynistic) relationship dynamics with other female characters like Gwen, which made MJ stand out as a unique personality. Not all superhero love interests have to be Lois Lane, investigative journalist!

To me, it's a little like making Lois Lane NOT a journalist, and making her into a model and actress instead. Like, you COULD do that. In fact, if you were really willing to put the work in for an AU, I'm sure you could do a fascinating character study about what would have to be different about Lois Lane's life to put her on a wildly different career path. But if there was a "Superman" game and you randomly changed Lois Lane's career without a great reason, you would get tomatoes thrown at you.

This game did have a reason to make MJ into a journalist: she became a source of information to move the plot forward and it briefly made her a playable character. Which is... fine. That's fun, even. I think you could have probably written the story in such a way that actress MJ was involved with something that ended up being a front for organized crime, to achieve similar results, but it is easier in some ways to just make her a journalist, I guess.

And hey, for all I know, this game really did a great adaptation of comics MJ into a journalist; maybe the writing had some really solid AU characterization for her. I do not remember it well enough, but I do remember the writing in other areas of the game being pretty solid. As a standalone character, I didn't think that this game's version of MJ was bad or anything.

But, lacking those citations to study her as am adaptation of the comics character, I still feel a little suspicious and salty about it.

I think this came to mind again because I was thinking about fanfiction AUs which change a character's career, and why they occasionally don't work for me. Sometimes, you take a character who is ordinarily fighting genetically engineered aliens in an apocalyptic wasteland, plop them in a Modern AU, and say, "They're a daycare worker now!" And I might be like, "Yeah, that's exactly where they'd be. That's their happy place. Hell yeah." But with other characters, you do the same thing, and I'm like, "I'm gonna be real, I think this would be this character's personal hell."

[meglosthegreat]

"It was fun, but it got a little boring by the end" is perhaps the most common review of Veilguard's combat that I've seen. No one seems to have strong opinions about it, overall. As far as things to have beef with this game over, it doesn't even make the shortlist, really. I mean, it was fine.

But hell, I'm not above being petty, especially when it comes to this game. So amidst all the other things wrong with this game, here's my hot take: Bioware doesn't understand RPG combat, and why it's useful in, you know, RPGs, as they ostensibly claim to make.

This didn't start with Veilguard, though Veilguard is obviously the subject of this post. It was apparent since before DAI that they were gravitating towards action combat, and I had a lot of problems with Inquisition's system at the time. But Veilguard took it even further, doubling down on their pivot away from RPG mechanics. And, well, I don't think a proper RPG system could've saved this game. But it could've given the game something it desperately lacks - replayability.

RPGs are long games, are driven by the premise that most players will not follow the exact same path towards the end, and above all, are designed to be played in as many ways as possible. This is why character classes exist; why there are multiple weapons to choose from, and why there are more party members to pick from than can fit in your party at once. This works when you consider the other hallmarks of RPGs: different story paths, dialogue choices, and romance options. Variation outside of combat compliments variation within it, and this makes a good RPG something you can play several times and have a completely different experience each time.

And more than that, the mechanics of an RPG compliment a game that could take anywhere from 80-100 hours to complete. You NEED that level of choice within the game mechanics to get you through that long a game, and Veilguard's problem is that it has the length of an RPG, but the combat system of your average 30-40 hour action game.

Of course, there are excellent action games out there that are also up in the 100-hour range, but what these games do that Veilguard did not, is put the majority of focus on their combat systems. Elden Ring is probably the best example of this, but of course we wouldn't want a Dragon Age that's like Elden Ring, really - Dragon Age needs to have more going for it than just combat. And if you can't build your whole game around its combat system, then you need something that has the longevity to sustain a 100-hour runtime.

Everyone bemoaning the lack of direct companion control is absolutely correct - their lack of damage output and usefulness compared to the player renders them basically meaningless in combat. But what this also does is make any kind of customization of their abilities or their gear next to pointless. Even if you could replay this game and build them differently - which you can't, let's be clear - doing so would not make a single iota of difference in combat.

And Rook themselves - well, consensus is that the game starts to get boring about 40 hours in. That's roughly the place where you've gotten enough skill points to specialize in one thing, and though, sure, you could theoretically refund all your points and try something else, by that time you've gotten enough points to acquire all the skills in the general tree anyway. It doesn't help that the gear system is such that whichever items you happen to get early will probably be the ones you end up sticking with. It definitely doesn't help that the enemies in this game severely lack variation, and once you've fought one dragon, you've fought them all.

You know what would have helped? Giving people multiple ways to approach combat. Giving us enemies that require a different approach. Giving us companions that you can build out in interesting ways. Giving us, in short, a reason to play this game again. Because if you're going to create an 80-100 hour game that has very little else going on mechanically, then the very least you can do is make sure your combat is actually fun for the full 100 hours.

[zeekszooks]

The only thing I want my ai robot to do that might be considered "pattern watching" and "generative" would be a Baymax.

Basically using a data log with trial and error in order to just be kind of a care robot. Though technology now is WAY too under advanced and at this point should send people to doctors rather than y'know play doctor?

Also this 'Baymax' would also HAVE to be made by doctors like reason why the Baymax we know took trial and error. (Honestly in the movie 84 tries is a mindblowingly low for success good on him tho.) Though that's the difference. Real life Baymax is not a replacement to the real deal human... as well as the tool that doctors use.

Humans are still needed and it is a tool to assist. It shouldn't replace the entire process. I say the only time the genertive is ok is IF you don't literally copy and paste then say you did all the work. You either use it as a reference or guide to improve your craft.

Also I don't respect AI that is programmed by artwork that was unvoluntary. It's like hearing the quiet kid say a joke then saying it louder and not saying 'oh I was just saying it louder _ is a hoot right guys?' Like those artist didn't want you to take and use their art without credit.

Though even WITH credit it's pretty ... well scummy... like... honestly I'd compare it to more like the Honey extention. You didn't ask you didn't tell and boy howdy even if you did tell you really shouldn't have. ... no really...

The first one I mentioned COULD be like a walking 911 machine for the human if they... like are close to hard attack or stoke ect to get humans... the whole point is the end result is human doing the thing. If AI did the whole task it gets rid of the humanity... and charm... and art... is very much a 'Why did you put this here what is the meaning nice brush what settings?' (VERY MUCH SO WITH ABSTRACT TOO.)

Artist help artist grow. AI helps me get very uninterested in the your art because there was no well... choice, with symbolism or anything. No, 'Why did they put this here?' Not even a, 'Is that a style choice? It seems consistant enough though I might ask if it's a headcannon or possibly an au!'

It's just:

Me: "Oh cool what brush did you use I wanna try it out to try myself!"

Random Person: "It's AI good prompt right?"

Me: "Uh neat. Gonna use it as a reference?"

Random Person: "Nope this is it. I could NEVER draw. You people are just born with a talent."

Me: "Huh."

My inner monolouge: They are not going to improve their craft? Like at all? Practice is all it takes... this is boring now I can't even think on why they chose a heart instead of a star because it was probably an AI error.

Me: "Cool thx bye."

Also... btw I wasn't born with the art skills I have... it takes a lot to improve. Also I still think I can improve. (Artist curse trying not to say I suck)

I don't know if Op agrees but just know I'm agreeing people are using it poorly but also not for a better use. I do think Op prefers a human making the art in the end at least.

i wonder if these ai people are thinking that im gonna be like "aahh!! you're right!! ive been such a fool !! certainly i can tell a robot to make something for me and it'll be just as good as something i can make with my own hands!! thank you, group of buffoons!" im not man. im really not

[mooshedts]

traitors s3 ep10 strongly opinionated thoughts

- GRRRAAAAHHHHHHH MINAHHHHH SHE SO DESERVED TO BE IN THE FINAL SHE WAS ICONIC, AMAZING, SUCH A GOOD PLAYER. I WAS ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT THIS EPISODE I REALLY THOUGHT SHE COULD PULL THROUGH NOOOO.

- she was no doubt the best traitor she made it so far it was only a matter of time though i suppose.

- also it was so nice that everyone wasn't totally celebrating that she was out but instead praising how good of a traitor she was. my queen deserved that send-off.

- and her being the only person to comment on people misspelling her name, like first it was the look she gave to ‘meina’ then telling alexander he forgot an h. i love her.

- the song choice for charlotte recruiting freddie being ‘maneater’ was perfect because honey she WILL chew you up.

- i do really like charlotte, like right off the bat her strategies are genius if she pulls them off well, but i didn't like how she ruined the sisterhood. but at the same time iconic that the only reason you're recruiting a man is to throw him under the bus.

- and can we talk about how everyone's saying ‘it has to be a man’ when last season no one said it had to be a woman when nearly all of them were men??? don't come for me i know ash was there but she went out so early and everyone else they recruited were male.

- that mission was ruthless although why am i not surprised that leanne took it really personally. and frankie bless her, props for putting herself forward and like she said; at least she’s self-aware.

- i am disappointed that we didn't get a good team building one like now that joe's out (which was shocking by the way he was quite gullible he would've been a good choice for the traitors to keep in) there's no comedic relief and alexander didn't have any iconic moments save for that dramatic pose by the fire.

- also are we all excited for the secret power tomorrowww i've been reading lots of theories and fav is that someone will get to find out who a few people/everyone's roles are but they can't tell the team directly like they have to come up with proper evidence.

- like think about it if someone had the power and were to start gunning for charlotte that would immediately make them suspicious because she's such a faithful, so they have to be strategic about it.

- it probably won't be the task there were quite a few theories from other people about what it could be which sounded more plausible but i think this idea could be interesting.

[fangdokja]

Heeeyyyyy it's me again lolll, sooooo have you checked out love and deep space (otome game with fighting monsters)? If not then you should, there are many hot characters there, i was rereading you paternal privileges and thought that "oh this is so zayne(one of the characters from love and deep space)" cuz if he's going to have a twisted side this really matches him well

Yeahhh, heyyyy. Prepare for unstructured Fang Dokja rambling.

Glad to see that you're also enjoying and reading the other stories. Paternal Privilege vibed more in Ao3 than in Tumblr, but I personally liked it as well. One of my first sex stories in general. Got lots of practice in it. And, in Ao3, people loved the ending haha. Thanks for sharing your input on it. It's appreciated :))

OK. I knew I'd get this question one day. And, I know some of you are Love and Deepspace (LaDs) fans (and also K-pop fans, especially you guys, I don't know why you're following me ahahhaha, but it's welcomed. Sorry, don't know much about K-pop like I hardly know DC).

OK SO! Of course I know this game! I played the game it was inspired by, Mr. Love Queen's Choice for more than 3 years! DADDYYYY VICTORRRR. I still have my account, whahhaha. Yes. This is bringing back memories.

And in Love and Deepspace's early release, like official first day, I was there! So, yes, I've played it.

Playstyle and graphics were cool. And, as a competitive gamer in general, ofc it was right up my alley. A bit clunky at first release, needed some adjustments, but generally good. It was way better in terms of graphics than Mr. Love, especially the interface and menus.

Though, I'd say what turned me off is I related more to the MC of Mr. Love than LaDs. Didn't really vibe with the MC of LaDs, a bit too emotional and outspoken for my tastes. Felt ENFJ (sorry, can't relate AT ALL to ENFJ's and ESFJ's especially) not gonna lie hahhahha. But, it's been so long since I played, so sorry if I get details wrong. Anyways...

I was just not vibing with the MC, and low-key plot as well. But, then again, maybe I expected too much. It usually happens when I do. I get so excited than it falls short of my expectations, and then I'm like ehh. So I just low key turn off my brain. It's also to prevent myself from spoiling myself. You have no idea how many times I've unwittingly spoiled myself in ANY fandom! It's genuinely unreal. So, it's like I have to stop thinking so I don't ruin those "huzzah" or "woahhh" moments for myself as a reader or audience.

Ok, back to the topic.

Why am I not making yandere content on it? Simple.

Because of this RULE:

Some characters remind of me of real life people too much, like for example, most “soft” and “green flag characters”. Reminds me of my friend’s boyfriend. And that person is gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. It’s fricking weird. But in general, most reasons I don’t write certain characters is because it reminds me too much of people I know in real life.

My friend and I don't share stories. AT ALL. That includes any fandom, manga, anime, manhwa, video games, etc. There are some exceptions, but usually we have separate fandoms.

So, when I introduced this game to share with my friend. Majority of the characters, from the graphics to their behavior, fit my friend's boyfriend more. Reminded her of him more.

Didn't really find anyone that reminded me of my husband (only 4 main guys before). I do play games, or do anything really to spend time with him. And even in things like this, I do this so I can analyze my husband, think about him and brainstorm, etc. Just basically husband simping for me.

So, in conclusion, probably not gonna talk a lot about Love and Deepspace. And besides, I don't think the MC is like me anyway, so it's fine. I just have to not look at ANY fanart, 'cause man IT IS EVERYWHERE. I have to LITERALLY avoid it like the plague so I don't tempt myself.

Uh... I have a gaming addiction. HAHHAHAHA

Sorry, but strict rules being obeyed here as well in the friendship. We DO NOT SHARE STORIES. End of story. Hope you guys understand, though.

Yes, we're weird.

WARNING: The information below is just extra husband simping. Proceed with caution.

God, I am waiting for official international release of this game ESPECIALLY (when it comes to otome games):

My LORD, I will waiitttttt. If it's possible to release, Your will be done!! haha

As you can tell, I'm weak to muscles ahahahahahahhahahaha. Why? I love my husband so much, he's so handsome. I am weak.

OSBORN I JUST KNOW IT'S OSBORN aghhhh. especially him. But seriously. huuu well, my husband doesn't like talking about himself with anyone else besides me, so just have to use "analogies" like characters lollll.

Though, none can compare to my husband, of course. He's leagues above anyone else huuuuuuu. I love him so much.

I also told you guys. I relate to these memes. VERY. VERY. VERY MUCH.

You have no idea.

WAHAHHAHAH.

*exposes self*

But, I just love my husband so much. So, so, so much.

Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter

Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege

He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.

🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.

🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.

🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.

🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.

She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Mitsuhide Akechi's Sequel

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead. This is a full translation. Not Proofread.

After countless fleeting kisses, the candle burned out, leaving the room in darkness.

Mitsuhide: "Mai, it's time to sleep."

Mai: "Are you leaving already?"

Mitsuhide: "I'll stay by your side until you fall asleep."

I looked up at his gentle smile, and a sense of helplessness welled up within me.

(He'll stay while I'm awake, only to leave once I fall asleep.)

Mai: "You always say goodbye so kindly."

Mai: "I'm pretty sure you'll head out into the storm alone while I'm lost in a dream."

Mitsuhide: "You look lovely even when you cry. But I'd rather have your smile as the last thing I see."

Mitsuhide: "Now, close your eyes."

(I don't want to steal any more of his time.)

Urged by his words, I lay down on the futon.

Gathering all my strength, I looked up at him one last time before closing my eyes.

Mai: "Mitsuhide, take care."

Mitsuhide: "Yeah, I'm off."

The sound of birds chirping woke me abruptly.

(It's morning already. It's so quiet.)

The storm had passed, and the room was bathed in the light of dawn.

(He really left without waking me, just like always.)

Mitsuhide's haori was lying on the floor nearby.

(Did he try to drape it over me?)

Right now, I'm not allowed to form connections with the people of this era.

The haori must have slipped off my shoulders and fallen onto the futon.

(How did he feel when he saw that?)

A crushing sensation tightened around my chest, and I bit down hard on my lip.

(I don't want to cry. I've cried more tears than I can bear already.)

Mitsuhide left Azuchi to search for a way to save me.

Time may be running out, but there's still hope.

(This was the right choice.)

(I know that with all my heart, so why does the loneliness of his absence pierce through me like a blade?)

(It's okay to feel hurt.)

(Because this pain is a testament to my time with Mitsuhide.)

Outside, the weather was unbelievably beautiful, but in my heart, the storm still raged.

(What if he doesn't make it in time? What if I don't recover?)

(If that happens, I'll never see him again.)

Mai: ".........."

I desperately stifled a sob that was about to escape.

(No matter what happens, I won't regret it.)

(I can't imagine a life where I never met him.)

(I'm glad I met him.)

Mai: "I love you, Mitsuhide."

Caught between the weight of despair and the faintest grain of hope, I whispered those words.

The shocking news came a few days later.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai, am I walking too fast? Are you keeping up?"

Mai: "I'm fine."

I replied to Ranmaru and rang the small bell hanging from my necklace just to be sure.

Ranmaru: "Thanks for answering. I can clearly hear your voice."

Mai: "I see. That's good."

Relieved, I tightly gripped the bell on my necklace.

For the past few days, I've become completely invisible to everyone.

(I can't afford to let go of this bell, not even for a moment now.)

Mai: "What do you think this emergency meeting is about?"

Ranmaru: "I have no idea, but Lord Nobunaga gave strict orders to ensure you're present."

(Me?)

Ranmaru: "I have such a bad feeling about this. I almost don't want to take you along."

(Ranmaru is so kind.)

Mai: "Thanks. But I'll be fine."

Mai: "If you have a bad feeling, that's all the more reason for me to hear what's going on."

(Even if I'm scared, I have to keep my eyes open.)

Ranmaru: "I figured you weren't the type to say no anyway."

After giving me a wry smile, Ranmaru's expression grew serious.

Ranmaru: "Let's hurry. The other warlords are probably already there."

Mai: "Okay."

Mai: "Excuse me."

Even though I knew they couldn't see me, I gave a deep bow before sitting in the seat Ranmaru showed me.

Mitsunari: "It seems everyone is present now."

Hideyoshi: "Mai, how are you feeling? Any problem?"

Mai: "Thank you. I'm doing well, thanks to everyone's support."

As I answered, I rang the bell on my necklace louder so they could pinpoint my location.

Ieyasu: "That bell is pretty handy. Maybe I should put one on Wasabi too."

Ieyasu: "Make sure you don't lose it, okay? Searching for you every time would be a pain."

Masamune: "If you're worried, just admit it."

Ieyasu: "I'm not worried."

Keiji: "He's just saying he trusts you won't give up easily."

Ieyasu: "Don't twist my words, will you?"

Still, something felt off.

(It's like they're forcing themselves to act cheerful for my sake.)

Seizing the pause in their conversation, I turned toward Nobunaga.

Mai: "Lord Nobunaga, why did you call me to this emergency meeting?"

Nobunaga: "Let's get to the main topic."

At his words, the room fell completely silent.

Nobunaga: "Hideyoshi."

Hideyoshi: "Yes."

Hideyoshi: "Mai, you're aware that ever since the attack, rebellions have been breaking out frequently in neighboring regions, right?"

Mai: "Yes."

Hideyoshi: "There were numerous small-scale rebellions led by lords of minor domains, ronin, bandits, and lawless people."

Hideyoshi: "But now, someone's shown up who's managed to bring all these random groups together."

(What?)

Ranmaru: "Could it be Kicho and Motonari?"

Hideyoshi: "If it had been them, it would've been a hundred times better."

Masamune & Keiji: "…………"

Ieyasu & Mitsunari: "…………"

Everyone's faces twisted bitterly.

(Don't tell me…)

Nobunaga: "It's just as you've suspected."

Nobunaga: "The leader of the rebellion is Mitsuhide."

(No way!)

Mai: "Why? What reason could Mitsuhide possibly have to side with the…"

I was about to finish my sentence when a wave of goosebumps swept over me.

(There's a reason.)

The warlords' grim expressions told me they had reached the same conclusion as I had.

(He really is a liar.)

The sound of my heartbeat thumped loudly in my ears.

That night, Mitsuhide had bared his heart to me but kept the most important secret.

(His true purpose.)

Mitsuhide: "Quite the spectacle, isn't it?"

In the plains near Azuchi, the rebel army had set up camp, where the rebel generals sat face-to-face with their newly appointed leader, Mitsuhide.

The group, brimming with the tension of battle, made no effort to hide their excitement.

Rebel General 1: "Lord Mitsuhide, let my unit take the vanguard! We'll claim the enemy's head!"

Rebel General 2: "Hah! What does a bumpkin lord know about war? We'll lead the charge ourselves."

Rebel General 3: "Don't get cocky, you ronin scum. When it comes to killing, we're the experts."

Mitsuhide: "Now, now, gentlemen, let's keep it cool."

Rebel Generals: "……….."

At Mitsuhide's single command, the rebels fell silent.

Even so, they remained wary of one another, their piercing glares refusing to relent.

After a tense pause, one of them finally spoke up, his tone laced with dissatisfaction.

Rebel General 1: "Lord Mitsuhide, I get that numbers matter, but why'd you bring together such a shady bunch?"

Mitsuhide: "Each of them has caught my attention for some time."

Mitsuhide: "The men here have the courage to take on Nobunaga."

Rebel General 3: "Heh, easy for you to say. If we hadn't listened to you, we'd be having our heads pecked off by crows right now."

Rebel General 2: "We'll grab whatever hand we need to take down Nobunaga, even if it belongs to a cunning fox. That's all there is to it."

Despite their words, each general cast fearful glances toward Mitsuhide.

A disorganized rabble of soldiers, barely held together, was being forged into an army by this man with eyes cold as ice.

Mitsuhide: "Let me make one thing clear. From this point forward, any act of treachery will not be tolerated."

Mitsuhide: "If you don't wish to die a pointless death, I suggest you remain obedient."

(Mitsuhide's purpose in uniting the rebel army…)

My blood ran cold, and I was unable to speak.

Mitsunari: "The total number of soldiers in the rebel army is expected to be several times ours."

Mitsunari: "However, even if these troops clash with the well-trained Oda warriors, there's no way it'll be a fair fight."

Ieyasu: "There's no way he doesn't understand that."

Ieyasu: "It's all part of his plan."

Hideyoshi: "Recently, some of the rebels have been raiding towns and villages to gather supplies and funds for the army."

Hideyoshi: "But that suddenly stopped a little while ago. Mitsuhide must've gotten the unruly ones under control and forced them into line."

Masamune: "Those pests, no matter how many times you crush them, they just keep appearing, but Mitsuhide has managed to suppress them and gather them into a swarm."

Masamune: "He plans to throw them all directly into the Oda forces and take everyone down with him."

(Take everyone down...)

I wanted to deny it, but I couldn't.

Everyone's thoughts mirrored my own instinct exactly.

None of us believe that Mitsuhide betrayed us.

(Who would have thought that we'd have to confirm our mutual trust in this way?)

Keiji: "So, he became the leader of the enemy forces to put an end to this prolonged war, huh?"

Keiji: "It's a flashy move, but I can't bring myself to praise it."

Hideyoshi: "Does that fool not know the meaning of choosing your own methods!?"

Ranmaru: "This is just outrageous!"

Ranmaru: "He knows exactly how Lady Mai feels, how we all feel, and yet…"

Using us like pieces on a chessboard was something only Mitsuhide could pull off.

(But there had to be other ways to take down the rebel army and stop Kicho and Motonari's plans.)

Nobunaga: "Kicho and Motonari must be sighing in regret by now."

Mai: "Mitsuhide didn't do this just to make the Oda army crush the rebels."

Nobunaga: "What?"

Mai: "It's my fault."

Mai: "Mitsuhide figured out how to cure me."

------------Flashback-----------

Sasuke: "The fact that Mitsuhide's name is starting to disappear from the travel guide suggests that possibility."

Sasuke: "If Mitsuhide vanishes from history, the cause of divine punishment will be gone, and you'll surely return to normal."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Mitsuhide must have started making contact under the guise of a rebellion as soon as the rebel armies began to form.)

(Seeing through Kicho and Motonari's schemes, and with my condition worsening, Mitsuhide must have chosen to implement this plan to resolve everything at once.)

Nobunaga: "Mai, Tell me everything."

Mitsuhide: "Kyubei, I'd like to write a letter. Could you leave the tent for a moment?"

Kyubei: "Understood."

Mitsuhide: "You don't look pleased. I told you to stay in Azuchi, didn't I?"

Kyubei: "If I'd stayed in Azuchi, who would deliver this letter to Lady Mai?"

Mitsuhide: "Good grief. A vassal who's too sharp can be a real hassle."

Kyubei: "I think it's still far better than having a too-sharp lord."

Mitsuhide: "I suppose you're right."

Kyubei: "I apologize. I spoke out of turn."

Mitsuhide: "I'm counting on you, Kyubei."

Mitsuhide: "Once everything is over, please deliver my will to Mai."

Kyubei: "........."

Kyubei bowed deeply in silence before leaving.

Eventually, Mitsuhide picked up his brush and wrote, bleeding his true feelings onto the paper.

Mai. As I write this, I am once again reminded of your strength in being able to express your true feelings so honestly.

I've learned from you that such honesty is not something easily done.

The other day, I overheard you telling Masamune that you would leave Azuchi, so I took the liberty of examining that historical book you kept hidden while you were away.

I'm sure, by now, you've realized that I've figured out your secret.

Mai, I have no hesitation. No regrets.

The only thing I regret is that you aren't by my side.

I love you and the world you live in more than anything.

If I could, I would've lived alongside you.

A few hours later.

Mitsuhide: "Well then, everyone. Do you have no regrets?"

The soldiers at the front of the army roared in response.

Mitsuhide: "We're launching a full-scale attack on the Oda forces, so make your mark on history in this battle."

Mitsuhide: "Now, to battle!"

🦊 Previous Part 💔 Tragic Ending

[max1461]

One thing I will say, now that I've had direct experience with my mental meat severely malfunctioning: drugs are broad-spectrum, and personal exercise of... I won't say "virtue", but choice, can be targeted. I'm not saying that drug addicts can just choose not to be addicted or something, I'm not that naive. What I'm saying is: what are the full mental knock-on affects of dampening one's cravings? If opiate addiction is ruining your life this might be the least of your concerns, but if you're conceptualizing these GLP-1 agonists or any putatively similar drugs as some kind of general purpose "self-control booster", this is might be something you want to think about.

I often get a craving-like-feeling to do math, I'll have this moment where I'm like "you know what would be good right now? One of those group theory problems where you have the orders of a bunch subgroups and you have to deduce the order of the group" and then I'll go look for one online or whatever and solve it. This is, in fact, one of my more consistent motivators to do math, and if those cravings were less frequent I would probably know a lot less. A core part of romantic attraction for me is a craving-like-feeling for my partner; not just in a brute sexual sense but in a more abstract one. To have that lessened would be, from my perspective, essentially my capacity for romantic love being dampened along one of its axes. Would I want that?

When I was a kid, I played a lot of video games. Sometimes I'd play for hours a day. And I really cared about the medium; at that point in my life my ambition was to become a video game designer. When I turned about 16, I abruptly lost the immediate-term desire to actually play video games. I still cared about the medium just as much, I still had lots of thoughts on games and game design, but in a moment-to-moment sense actually playing games was no longer something I wanted to do very often. It ceased to be something I desired in a raw hedonistic sense. It was work. I would sit down to play a game because I was interested in it intellectually, but after 20 minutes I'd get burned out and have to stop. This shift probably altered the course of my life in a huge way—it reshaped something fundamentally about who I was and who I was becoming. I still care a lot about games as a medium, and I'm not in any way torn up that I didn't go down the path of trying to become a game designer. But it does disappoint me sometimes that I can't have anything like the relationship to games that I used to, because my brain has decided they aren't "fun" in that purely hedonic sense anymore.

Actually, this was part of a larger shift in my personality that occurred when I was a teenager, in which I became fairly anhedonic in most areas of life, and as a result shifted away from most simplistically pleasurable activities and towards endeavors that provided a more diffuse, harder to quantify form of gratification. Not because I'm virtuous—but because I'm meat, and the simplistic sources of gratification largely stopped working!

What I'm trying to articulate is something like... yeah, you're made of meat, which means in particular: you are made of meat. When you take a drug that alters your meat, there is a sense in which you become somebody else. And this also happens all the time for reasons you don't control. But that doesn't mean it's good or acceptable in the general case. Sometimes, often, it's bad! Or it's good and bad in ways that are hard to tally. The brain is complex, and, like I said, medications are broad-spectrum. They don't differentiate between the neurons that make you crave a burger and the neurons that make you love your wife, they modulate all the neurotransmitters the same. Actually the bodybuilder Mike Israetel specifically says in an interview somewhere that when he's on steroids, he loves his wife less. It's just physiological. And I believe him.

In the past few months I've had to take lamotrigine for seizures. Lamotrigine is also a mood stabilizer. I don't need my mood stabilized, in fact I rather like my usual array of moods. One of the things lamotrigine evidently does is induce a positive bias in processing of faces—response to angry and fearful faces is lessened, while response to happy faces is unaffected. Sounds great, right? But the visceral response to fearful faces is an important component of affective empathy. You don't want to hurt someone, in part it seems, because your brain has a visceral reaction to the real or imagined sight of their face in fear. Scores on the psychopathy checklist correlate with impaired ability to discern fearful faces, but no comparable impaired ability to discern faces displaying positive emotions. If you can't internalize someone else's fear or sadness, you can't empathize. I know that I don't feel like myself on lamotrigine. Now this is not to be taken as at all scientific; I've got a lot of weird brain stuff going on right now and I don't feel like myself anyway. But in any case, lamotrigine is meant to be one of the seizure medications with the fewest cognitive side effects.

You are made of matter, and messing around with the matter that makes you up can change you in unknown and unpredictable ways. Me growing up to become a linguist instead of a game designer, that reflects a really complex and multi-faceted shift in who I am and how I used my time. And it was brought on by all kinds of things, all sorts of personal development over the years, but a load-bearing component was probably the simple down-modulation of an impulse, a loss of simple hedonistic capacity that caused me to search out radically new uses of my time in my teen years. That shift was endogenous, but certainly a drug could have done it. So my point I guess is that no drug is... what word am I looking for, "apolitical"? That's not what I mean. But I'm saying something conceptually similar to what people often mean when they say no technology is apolitical. Except instead of the body politic I'm talking about the body itself, the body and mind. Uh. If you take a drug to "increase your willpower", it might turn out that you become someone you wouldn't have chosen to become, in ways you never even considered. You might be fine with that or you might not. But it's not so simple as taking the person-you-are and turning up a willpower knob, it's never that simple. I think a sort of techno-pessimism towards this notion of a miracle drug is very warranted.

Last week's WITH was about the pursuit of treatments that might do for addiction what GLP-1 agonists do for cravings for food, and the guest had an interesting point about how you can have phenomena with very complex causes (the main examples here being opiate addiction and the general rise in obesity) that do not require you to untangle or address those causes in order to procure solutions. Like, is addiction a disease, a social ill, a product of trauma, a failure of willpower, or all of these things?

It doesn't necessarily matter! It turns out that "craving stuff" is a pretty basic neurological feedback loop and it may be tractable to pharmaceutical intervention. Heck, GLP-1 agonists may be that intervention: people have reported (and clinical trials are being conducted to study) that these drugs, among their many effects, simply blunt cravings, to the point where people have as a side effect of taking them for diabetes or weight loss also found they helped cut down on drinking, or gambling, or using other drugs.

So even if GLP-1 agonists don't have all the miraculous effects reported (there are some reports they may be effective as an Alzheimer's treatment!), it would be crazy if we have discovered a drug that allows us to better marshal our faculties to decide which cravings to give in to, a drug that simply imbues us with self-control. And I think that's really interesting, because it's an outright clash between two ways of seeing the world: a moralistic one in which virtues are the product of individual decisions, and in which taking a drug to achieve some outcome that "ought" to be a product of virtue might be seen as cheating, and one that reminds us that, for better or worse, we are meat, and all our complex behaviors arise as the result of the state of the meat that we are--and from which view, refusing to acknowledge the mutability of your meat in aid of achieving your goals, or even broader social benefit (addiction is really bad and there very few good options to treat it), is simply goofy.

But a lot of people's reaction to the existence of GLP-1 agonists--or for that matter any medical intervention for things which are moralized as willpower problems--includes contempt founded on being wedded to that moralizing framework. I think a lot of moralism develops as a response to conditions of existence being imposed on us that are objectively pretty miserable, and that when we discover the occasional intervention that liberates us from that pretty restrictive framework, our attitude should be one of jubilation: hear, O ye people, that what was long believed to be an implacable trade-off of human existence is no more. But I think a lot of people's reaction is to double down: I had to suffer, or someone I know had to suffer, therefore you ought to suffer as well, or else our suffering has no meaning.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

The Copollogism Essays - Part 4: Leo's Questions/Seeing Commodus Again

THE RETURN OF THE ALDER ! ! ! ! !

it's copollo time yo

we're doing two different scenes so buckle up buttercups!!

Leo's Questions

“So what’s with you and the emperor?” Leo asked me, his feet pedaling merrily along as if the exertion didn’t bother him at all. I wiped my brow. “I don’t know what you mean.” “C’mon, man. At dinner, when Meg started shouting about commodes? You ran straight to the bathroom and spewed.” “I did not spew. It was more like heaving.” “Ever since, you’ve been awfully quiet.” - Chapter 20, The Dark Prophecy

I really want to bring attention to how Leo, in his own roundabout way, tries to find out why Commodus upset Apollo so much <3 These two have a LOT in common, so I think it's fascinating how Leo is the one to reach out and give Apollo an opportunity to talk about what happened.

"Ever since, you've been awfully quiet." Leo says, meaning he notices what is normal for Apollo, and what isn't. And he tries to help!

Don't forget that this is not the first time Leo's met Apollo either - the first time, Apollo suggested killing him (and Hazel and Frank). Now, we the ToA fandom know that was very likely a bluff, but Leo doesn't!

And yet, he still shows compassion, in his very Leo-like way <3

Because let's also remember - Apollo is the reason Leo is alive.

Apollo gave Leo the Curse of Delos, allowing him to survive the fight with Gaea and rescue Calypso.

Apollo and Leo can be something so personal <3

Murdering Commodus was traumatic for Apollo. Something that can help with trauma is talking about it with others. Apollo has with Jo, and now he discusses it with Leo and Meg.

These three - Jo, Leo, Meg - are the ONLY ONES in the ENTIRE SERIES to hear from Apollo himself what went down between him and Commodus. As far as we know, they don't tell anybody else either. It's only them.

“Commodus blames me for his death,” I said. “Why?” Meg asked. “Probably because I killed him.” “Ah.” Leo nodded sagely. “That would do it.”

WHEEZE Leo you and Apollo are MEANT to be friends. humor to lighten the mood? instant friendship, go commit arson together <3

I managed to tell them the story. It wasn’t easy. As I stared ahead of us, I imagined the body of Commodus floating just below the surface of the canal, ready to rise from the icy green depths and accuse me of treachery. You. Blessed. Me.

...and there's the water-related PTSD. ouch.

When I was done with the story, Leo and Meg remained silent. Neither of them screamed Murderer! Neither of them looked me in the eye, either.

Fair reaction, all things considered. I myself wouldn't know quite what to say or do if someone I knew told me how they had no choice but to kill their lover in cold-blood.

“That’s rough, man,” Leo said at last. “But it sounds like Emperor Toilet needed to go.”

LEO !! VALIDATING !! APOLLO'S !! ACTIONS !!

THIS IS GOOD BECAUSE APOLLO NEEDS FRIENDS AND FRIENDS WHO TELL HIM WHEN HE DID THE RIGHT THING !!

IMPORTANT FOR HEALTHY COMMUNICATION !!

THEY ARE FRIENDS YOUR HONOR !!

Meg made a sound like a cat’s sneeze. “It’s Commodus. He’s handsome, by the way.” I glanced back. “You’ve met him?”

don't sound so eager Apollo lmao i'm joking

“Once,” she said. “In New York. He visited my stepfather.” “Nero,” I urged. “Call him Nero.” “Yeah.” Red blotches appeared on her cheeks. “Commodus was handsome.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s also vainglorious, puffed up, egotistical—” “So he’s like your competition, then?” Leo asked. “Oh, shut up.”

*cackling*

let's look at this real quick.

firstly, Meg 100% thinks Commodus is hot.

secondly, Apollo's immediate reaction to finding that out is to point out all of Commodus's flaws, meaning he knows just how flawed Commodus is.

thirdly, Leo teasingly points out his hypocrisy, and all Apollo does in response is "Oh, shut up."

delightful little exchange, with a valuable piece of information in there to boot!

“One thing I don’t get,” Leo said. “Why Commodus? I mean, if this Triumvirate is the three biggest and baddest emperors, the Roman supervillain dream team…Nero makes sense. But Commode Man? Why not some eviler, more famous guy, like Murderous Maximus or Attila the Hun?” “Attila the Hun was not a Roman emperor,” I said. “As for Murderous Maximus…well, that’s actually a good name, but not a real emperor. As for why Commodus is part of the Triumvirate—” “They think he’s weak,” Meg said.

we're going to come back to this.

She kept her gaze on our wake, as if she saw her own assortment of faces below the surface. “You know this how?” I asked. “My step—Nero told me. Him and the third one, the emperor in the west, they wanted Commodus between them.”

I wonder what that discussion was like.

Nero: hey uncle for this to work we need someone between us. to keep us from trying to stab each other to death Caesar-style.

Caligula: a triumvirate. excellent. absolutely nothing can go wrong with a triumvirate of the evilest, baddest, most notorious emperors of all time! But who-?

Commodus, exploding out of the nearest river, in a manic rage, screaming for bloodlust:

APOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nero & Caligula, evilly nodding: oh yeah. that one. that one would do juuuust fiiiine.

in all seriousness though, it really does sound like Nero and Caligula were alive first, and Commodus was added later! Caligula was the first to die out of these three, with Nero being the second - that is, if he killed himself in the RRverse same as historical him. He very well could have already made himself a pseudo-god and faked his death...

Caligula, though, was murdered by his own guard, so he had to have been resurrected - perhaps at Nero's behest? Ooo! Perhaps Nero thought he could get Caligula indebted to him, but underestimated just how...uh...batshit his uncle is, and quickly grew to fear him?!?!

perhaps then leading to a proposition of a Triumvirate, and looking back at the past emperors of Rome...they found Commodus.

I have no idea how they could have found out about Apollo & Commodus until Commodus himself told them, so here's another theory:

Nero and Caligula found Commodus in the Underworld, perhaps trying to track down which emperor to join their Triumvirate.

Now, I have a personal headcanon about how Commodus stayed out of the Fields of Punishment. I even wrote a fic about it.

So this is all STRICTLY headcanon! We are in the thumbtacks and strings zone. Tinfoil hats for everyone!!

In any case, they manage to find Commodus in limbo, and upon hearing his MANY greviences with Apollo, decide he's the one.

“So Nero and the dude in the west,” Leo said, “they want Commodus to be a buffer between them. Monkey in the middle.” Meg rubbed her nose. “Yeah. Nero told me….He said Commodus was like his Peaches. A vicious pet. But controllable.”

what an interesting why to describe your coworker...hmm.

really makes you think on how Nero, at least, sees Commodus. We'll talk more on Caligula and Commodus in The Tyrant's Tomb.

Nero seems to see Commodus as a tool to use, just like he does with everyone. It's especially interesting how he specifically uses animal metaphors to describe Commodus - even Leo indirectly contributes to this image of Commodus!

A monkey is commonly seen as a wild creature. Then we have Peaches, a very wild nature spirit.

Both of these individuals can be vicious, as Nero said. When provoked.

You know what that reminds me of?

Don't poke the lion.

curious how it's the lion Commodus wraps himself in, and yet he is perceived as this animal that's been brought to heel. A pet, as Meg explains. A predator, even, to draw out and frighten the Triumvirate's chosen prey...

Controlled, with the promise of revenge.

and yet, we must ask him and ourselves - what will happen after that revenge? when his use against Apollo has run out?

nothing good, that's for sure; for the world, and no doubt for Commodus himself.

against even one of the other two emperors, he is the weakest. his only purpose was to be a buffer between them.

to them, Commodus is no threat. not at all.

Seeing Commodus Again

I peeked over the edge of the channel and was immediately sorry I did. Commodus was right there. - Chapter 22, The Dark Prophecy

AN EXCELLENT START 10/10 HILARIOUS

Lester sure did have his "Shit, it's my ex!" moment!

Thank the gods, we had crossed slightly behind his throne, so neither he nor his Germani guards saw me. My least favorite Cornhusker, Lityerses, knelt before the emperor, facing my direction, but his head was lowered. I ducked back below the edge before he could spot me. I gestured to my friends: Quiet. Yikes. We’re going to die. Or something to that effect. They seemed to get the message. Shivering miserably, I pressed against the wall and listened to the conversation going on just above us. “—part of the plan, sire,” Lityerses was saying. “We know where the Waystation is now.” Commodus grunted. “Yes, yes. Old Union Station. But Cleander searched that place several times before and found nothing.”

pardon me but HISTORY NUT TIME!

Cleander was the name of Commodus's chief advisor! Well, his second chief advisor, who may have had a hand in assassinating the first one, who at the time had been a close friend of Commodus.

interesting implication that Commodus isn't aware of that. furthermore, it's interesting that Cleander (if it's the same guy) was allowed to return to work despite his MASSIVE FAILURES during his time in Rome.

like. look up Commodus, find his wiki page, find Cleander, click on the link, read about him. absolute DINGUS. look Commodus 100% had a hand in the downfall of Rome, mainly because he shuffled his duties off to other (untrustworthy) people, but BY GOD CLEANDER...CLEANDER WAS A BIG PART OF IT.

he had a MOB ready to tear him apart, and it scared it so much he went running to Commodus to save him. if i remember correctly, Commodus quit literally threw him to the wolves. i might be wrong on that so READ UP on Cleander please and roll your eyes at how abysmally he failed.

good lord how embarrassing.

perhaps he started at the VERY bottom of the ladder. and since Commodus goes through right-hand men VERY quickly, that's how he ended up as chief advisor once again.

before being killed, of course. by our man Lityerses, Reaper of Men.

“The Waystation is there,” Lityerses insisted. “The tracking devices I planted on the griffins worked perfectly. The place must be protected by some sort of magic, but it won’t stand up to a fleet of blemmyae bulldozers.” My heart climbed above water level, which put it somewhere between my ears. I dared not look at my friends. I had failed once again. I had unwittingly betrayed the location of our safe haven. Commodus sighed. “Fine. Yes. But I want Apollo captured and brought to me in chains! The naming ceremony is tomorrow. Our dress rehearsal is, like, right now. When can you have the Waystation destroyed?” Lityerses hesitated. “We need to scout the defenses. And gather our forces. Two days?” “TWO DAYS? I’m not asking you to cross the Alps! I want it to happen now!” “Tomorrow, then, at the latest, sire,” said Lityerses. “Definitely by tomorrow.” “Hmph. I’m beginning to wonder about you, son of Midas. If you don’t deliver—”

why in chains specifically commodus- i'm sorry i'll see myself out

another very interesting relationship to discuss is between Commodus and Lityerses.

there's some type of stepdad-stepson thing going on here, faintly. it's not focused on much, but reading between the lines (and knowing what we know about Lityerses and Midas) we can conclude that Lityerses, at least, sees Commodus as a surrogate father-figure.

unfortunately, he may be even worse than Midas rip

hmm...hrm...

you know...this makes me wonder. is Commodus perhaps reflecting Marcus Aurelius's parenting style, or could he be projecting what he thought he felt from his father's rebukes and lectures? putting these unreasonable expectations onto another in an effort to make himself feel powerful and in control?

much to chew on here. hrm hrm hrm...

get some damn therapy Commodus.

“Incursion at the front gates!” Lityerses growled. “I will deal with this, sire. Never fear. Guards, with me!” Heavy footsteps faded into the distance. I glanced at Meg and Leo, who were both giving me the same silent question: What the Hades? I had not ordered an incursion at the front gates. I hadn’t even activated the iron manacle on my ankle. I didn’t know who would be so foolish as to launch a frontal assault on this underground palace, but Britomartis had promised to look for the Hunters of Artemis. It occurred to me that this was the sort of diversionary tactic they might arrange if they were trying to distract Commodus’s security forces from our presence. Could we be so lucky? Probably not. More likely, some magazine-subscription salesman had rung the emperor’s doorbell and was about to get a very hostile reception. I risked another peek over the edge of the canal. Commodus was alone now with just one guard. Perhaps we could take him—three on two? Except that we were all about to pass out from hypothermia, Meg probably had some broken ribs, and my own powers were unpredictable at best. On the opposing team, we had a trained barbarian killer and a semi-divine emperor with a well-deserved reputation for superhuman strength. I decided to stay put.

a very wise decision, Apollo. Marcus Aurelius would be proud.

Commodus glanced at his bodyguard. “Alaric.” “Lord?” “I think your time is approaching. I grow impatient with my prefect. How long has Lityerses had this job?” “About a day, my lord.” “Seems like forever!” Commodus pounded his fist on his armrest. “As soon as he’s dealt with this incursion, I want you to kill him."

see what i mean by 'going through prefects real fast'? Lityerses dodged a bullet.

“Yes, lord.” “I want you to wipe out the Waystation tomorrow morning at the latest. Can you do that?” “Of course, lord.” “Good! We’ll have the naming ceremony immediately afterward in the colosseum.” “Stadium, my lord.”

fun fact I've been to the Colts Stadium for a high school trip.

“Same difference! And the Cave of Prophecy? Is it secure?” My spine took a jolt of electricity so strong I wondered if Commodus kept electric eels in the channel. “I have followed your orders, sire,” Alaric said. “The beasts are in place. The entrance is well guarded. None shall gain access.” “Lovely!” Commodus jumped to his feet. “Now let’s go try on our racing outfits for the dress rehearsal, shall we? I can’t wait to remake this city in my own image!”

Commodus tries on his racing clothes...meaning he puts meticulous detail and attention into his visage...he appears exactly as he wants to appear...

I waited until the sound of their footsteps receded. I peeked over and saw no one in the room. “Now,” I said. We dragged ourselves out of the canal and stood dripping and shivering in front of the golden throne. I could still smell the scent of Commodus’s favorite body oil—a mix of cardamom and cinnamon.

APOLLO STILL REMEMBERS THE SCENT OF COMMODUS'S FAVORITE BODY OIL DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING MORE

anywho this is why i'm obsessed with giving Commodus those SPECIFIC scents in my fics. always.

though also remember he has roses in his bathwater...(does he still, you think? hmm...)

hey. cardamom symbolizes love, health, and prosperity. cinnamon symbolizes protection, prosperity, and health.

...Commodus. you aren't fooling us.

I can easily interpret this. *cracks knuckles*

you see, the protection part is important because Commodus is trying hard to not only kill, but sacrifice Apollo - doing so will grant him ultimate power, as per Trophonius's prophecy. Thus, granting him protection - from Apollo, and from the other emperors.

Health and prosperity is simple - that's part of what Commodus wants. He wants to be immortal, eternally handsome and hale. He wants to reign in a kingdom of his own, with entertainment to spare.

but even if he manages to get all of that...it won't be enough. because we all know that deep down, what he desires - nay, covets the most...is love.

how intriguing. to gain the power he wants, he must quite literally sacrifice the only person he ever loved.

tragic. yaoi.

[alicecorpseliddell]

PLURAL ASK GAME 2* (45 questions)

*inspired by some of our headmates

Remember to practice reblog karma!!*

*reblog karma does not apply to us/the original post

🪳 — Does anyone with a "problematic"/"bad" source identify with their "problematic"/"bad" actions from source?

🤍 — Is there anyone who has a distinctly different voice/accent than the rest?

🪒 — Is there anyone who's probably bigender but is putting off thinking about it? If so, why?

🅱️ — is there anyone that people outside of the system perceive as intimidating but inside the system is just seen as a silly guy? (/gender neutral)

⭐ — are there any headmates who when fronting cause your energy/spoons to drain faster than others?

🟩🚫 — is there anyone who spends most of their time fronting complaining about missing their s/o from source?

🌹 — has anyone had to explain queerphobia to another headmate?

🌸 — is there anyone who either fronts super frequently or you don't see for months and months on end?

🚂 — is there a resident RPF freak™? (/sil)

🍋 — is there a resident Swiftie?

🔋 — is there one double that is distinctly different from the other doubles of their source?

🌫️ — anyone who really shouldn't have any kids, have any kids?

🩰 — anyone who's entire personality is formed around a hobby you picked up briefly in childhood but never gained an actual interest in? If so, what's the hobby?

🦴 — if you have individual playlists, who's is the longest runtime wise?

🏷️ — anyone who uses unconventional first person pronouns (something other than I/me/myself/etc)

🎻🎵 — anyone sourced from a fanfiction?

🪞 — you got any uhhhhh.... Manipulative MILFS?

🗿 — anyone get reformed in an... unconventional manner?

🚨 — anyone front triggered by Emergency Service Alarms or other similar alarm systems?

🎵 — anyone form while you were hospitalized (for anything)?

🎻 — anyone who is the exact complete opposite of their source in every way possible, but still identifies with it?

🏥 — have you ever accidentally deleted a fully made profile (on anything) for a headmate and had to remake it from scratch?

♋ — anyone from a source you don't know have a high ranking/very important role within your system?

🩷 — anyone who bears a strong resemblance to a character but is not sourced from them in any way shape or form?

🖊️ — anyone who has "no concept of emotions"? (whatever that may mean to you)

🦪 — has anyone been forcemasc'd?

🪸 — anyone who picked an emoji/symbol/name/etc just because they liked the way it looked, and not for any real reason?

🐸 — anyone communicate either primarily or entirely in [a] random sounds? And if so can anyone understand them?

🚥 — anyone who is most definitely queer but is refusing to admit it?

🍄 — has anyone gotten you banned from a specific website or app?

🍴 — does anyone type in a different font as a typing quirk?

🐮 — do you have anyone who shifts through face claims and apparences frequently? (not including multisourced folk)

🌲 — is anyone's emoji/sign off/front indicator an inside joke from their source?

📼 — is there anyone who's only like 80% sure of their source but still goes with it like it's fact anyways?

🦋 — is there anyone who enjoys math but isn't particularly good at it?

💣 — is there a lesbian who's obsessed with [a] fictional men?

♎ — is there anyone who when fronting with other people makes pain worse but when fronting alone makes pain lessen?

🌋 — anyone who is almost constantly crying? If so, why? Is it a disorder? An aesthetic choice? A trauma response? Something else?

🎙️ — do you have any tween/early teens gatekeepers?

🎤 — do you have any introjects from a series you haven't touched but was popular with your friends?

🧽 — do you have anyone who has an endless appetite when fronting? And what are their favourite food(s)?

🐲 — has anyone woke you up in the middle of the night to announce their presence then proceeded to never front again?

🥝 — is there any who is unreasonably funny for who their source is?

🔞 — is anyone addicted to candy crush (or similar styles of games)?

🍦 — is there anyone who's "just happy to along for the ride :)"?

[ PLAIN TEXT ] We Are A Diagnosed Traumagenic DID System We Are Pro Endogenic And You Will Not Change Our Mind If You Harass Us You Give Us Consent To Harass You Back

[lloydfrontera]

i can't get over how cute javier is when he introduces himself to ppodong. he's so serious about it that lloyd thinks he's about to question his cover story for how ppodong was summoned but no. he was just thinking really hard about how he should call him or if he had a name. and then when lloyd gives him the go ahead to call ppodong however he wants he just. calls him sir ppodong and fucking shakes hands with him. he introduces himself and shakes hands with the hamster like c'mon that's so fucking cute i cannot stop thinking about it just look at him

it's adorable.

and it's also one of the first times in the novel that you get the sense that 'oh. that's a kid.' it's subtle and lowkey but you can kinda feel that javier is actually excited about ppodong, he's curious about him and really gentle when he meets him. like. he's just a kid. a kid that probably never had a pet before and is now in close proximity with a cute and fluffy little hamster and just. wants to know his name.

it's just. it's very cute.

[spoilerssweetie13]

Hi, I've been meaning to reply to this. I just haven’t found the time to sit down and write a whole essay, hehehe. I'll start off by saying I definitely get where you're coming from, but here's just my two cents on everything:

The Doctor has, at one point, been President of Gallifrey, and given how Time Lords are, I don't they would allow someone "less clever" than them to lead them. The Timeless Child isn't supposed to make the Doctor special. If anything, it makes them a victim of abuse dissected like lab rat by their own adoptive mother over who knows how lifetimes. The Timeless Child does not negate their choices. Instead, I feel adds to them. They are alien even to this universe but chose to save it time and time again. In a sense, if they hadn't been kidnapped the DW universe would have died a billion times over, isn't that beautifully fucked up in its own way?

Davros once asked Twelfth why he ran from Gallifrey, and under this new context of the Timeless Child, you realize, "Oh shit that's what he was running from." That's what they are all always running from. I also saw another post on here that said that the Time Lords "granted" Eleventh more regenerations to cover their own tracks, and that makes so much sense. The Time Lords don't do anything unless it benefits them. When you see the whole show under the lens of Timeless Child, all the pieces start to fall into place. It's definitely a different viewing experience. It becomes so much darker, and I think that's part of the appeal of the Timeless Child for me.

The Doctor did always feel like the adopted child of the family; Timeless Child just confirms it. But they will always be the Doctor, because the Doctor is the name that they chose for themselves, their empathy and and love for humanity has nothing to do with where they come from, and that was true even when we thought they were from Gallifrey. It's all about their choices, and they will always choose to be the Doctor sorting out fair play throughout the universe, no matter their origins.

Ever since I watched the Fugitive Doctor episode, every time someone new would pop up on screen, I would go is he the Doctor, is she the Doctor, [ominously whispers] are we all the Doctor? (Joking, but seriously, the paranoia did set in!) To me, Timeless Child isn't taking the Everyman-ness or Everywoman-ness away but adds to it by saying literally anyone and everyone can be the Doctor. You don't have to be born on Gallifrey to be the Doctor; hell, you don't even have to be from the DW universe, so we could all very well be the Doctor, lol.

Extended lore says Time Lords used Looms to procreate so I don't know why the Doctor wouldn't know who the Susan's parents are, unless it hasn't happened yet because of timey-wimey stuff [shrugs] probably will never happen now because of the retcon. :( Marrying a werewolf is crazy but it's the Doctor, so I'm not even surprised.

It's funny that I don't like the Bi-genration for the same reason that you do like it. That it's a one-off and will never happen again. To me, it feels too convenient compared to the Timeless Child. Love it, hate it, want to purge it from your memory, the Timeless Child will always be a part of the show's history, it's essentially a infinite money glitch, a way for the show to go on forever. See, what really gets me is that Fourteenth will just drop dead at one point, and Fifteenth will just get all his memories and be like, "I'm healed now." That feels too convenient. To me, that's messing with the established rules just as much as Timeless Child. If we're talking about closure Fourteenth and Donna should've gone back to The Library and Fourteenth should've used his "resemblance" to Tenth to his advantage to confuse the Vashta Nerada and somehow save River without time collapsing in on itself (but that's just the Doctor/River shipper in me speaking). To me, Donna just getting her memories was closure enough.

RTD said he didn't want to make a mockery of drag by putting David Tennant in Jodie's Whittaker outfit. Mind you, her outfit was specially designed so anyone can wear it. What's so feminine about trousers, a shirt and a coat? It seems to me that it was just done in bad faith.

Bigeneration is just as lore-changing as the Timeless Child. And yet no one shits on it because their precious RTD wrote it. If Chibnall did something like this, y'all would have your pitchforks at the ready. The double standards in this fandom, I swear. RTD is allowed to retcon Doctor Who, but heavens forbid Chibnall even try.

The Doctor is no longer even a parent because of him. David Tennant is a good actor, but I'm tired of people pretending like he's the face of Doctor Who. The whole point of the show is that the Doctor has different faces, and we should love them all—not regress backwards.

We deserved to see the Fourteenth Doctor in Thirteenth's clothes, and not for everything she is to burn up and die. The Fifteenth Doctor deserved his own regeneration scene like every other Doctor, without Fourteenth randomly sticking around because of RTD's inability to let go of the characters he wrote.

At least the Timeless Child added something more to the Doctor's story. Bigeneration took something away: the emotional impact of the Doctor's regeneration - having to say goodbye.