#completely warranted lmao

[batrachised]

Trademark: unironic Uncle Benjamin defender 😉

NOW--WAIT--NOW HOLD ON--HOLD ON A MINUTE--LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING--LET ME TELL YOU S--

[thevalleyisjolly]

Just watched the finale for Season 11 Masterchef Australia and that sure was some bullshit, huh

[d-eathvalley]

job hunting is sucking the ever loving life out of me i hate this

[hazyange1s]

Enshrouded

Summary: (abbreviated from the ao3 version because this baby is long enough 😂) MC is an Auror seeking refuge from the arduous nature of her everyday life, and finds it in a secret wizarding club hidden in London; where she has an unforgettable encounter with a strangely familiar, masked man.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC / Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI. — p in v, oral (f and m receiving), drug/alcohol use, semi-public, anonymous, little bit rough but nothing too crazy, mentions of violence/blood (mc just really LOVES her job lmao), lots of adult language oop, aged up characters (everyone is in their early 20’s)

Word count: 7.3k

A/N: this idea came to me in a dream… nah jk it came to me while watching Bridgerton (go figure). Started writing it months ago and after much self-doubt I present baby’s first published filth 💀

read here on Ao3 🌹

It was the mystery. She had long suspected that was what kept her going back for more, time and time again.

The risk of it all was enticing too, of course, but more than anything, she loved a damn good mystery. One complex and intricate, one that took time and effort to unravel. As an Auror, well, her life was chock full of such simple delights.

Regrettably, there wasn’t much joy to be had in solving the cases slapped on her desk by the Chief Auror - any satisfaction in making an arrest was often muddied by the names of the victims left behind. So she often sought out milder (but just as potent) forms of that heady adrenaline rush in order to scratch the itch - and her absolute favorite was Reverie. Unassuming enough as names go, and the facade would lead you to think so, too: its uniform brick painted a dingy gray just like every other shopfront along the shadowed, misty cobblestone of Knockturn Alley.

If any of her coworkers found out she frequented such a spot …oh, she’d never hear the end of it. Worse than that, her Chief might even believe such behavior warranted suspension; as wanton impropriety from a well known Ministry employee would bring her morals into question. Likely, she’d get an earful about the utter shame it would bring upon the Ministry itself if she were spotted.

But that was the glorious thing about Reverie: the moment you stepped through its doors, you became somebody else.

Or, rather, no one at all.

Attendance was by invitation only; delivered anonymously while the recipient slept soundly in their bed (certainly disconcerting, but how could she complain?). No letter, just a silken black mask.

Donning the disguise allowed its wearer to see past the heavy glamor placed on the building and step inside - without being apprehended by one of the black-clad guards on watch. Yet the mask’s hidden talents didn’t end there. It was the club’s signature secret: while it was true they merely framed the eyes, each mask contained a glamor of their own that completely concealed one’s identity - whether or not someone would recognize them without it.

(You could be staring into the face of your best friend and would never know it.)

Which, incidentally, was expressly forbidden inside the club’s boundaries (one of very few rules, mind); as strict anonymity was what kept the underground facility running, despite the fact that the Ministry remained attuned to the whispers of a taboo venue boasting all manners of rampant debauchery right under their noses.

Still, the sorcery that offered Reverie protection had held true for well over five years, and its owners were more than dedicated to ensuring it was always so.

Most well-versed and connected members of English wizarding society had at least indulged in rumors of an alternative establishment hidden in the city. They traded whispers of what horrors may lurk behind those gray walls - dark magic and blatant impropriety and dangerous indulgences…

They couldn’t be more right.

The air was already thick with the tang of whiskey and rank with perspiration by the time she arrived an hour after its Friday opening. With each step she took through the meandering crowd, heels clicking on the marble floors, curling smoke in every shade imaginable wafted around the room and blissfully chased away the odor with frankincense and mallowsweet.

But she hadn’t come for the medicinals tonight, tempting as they were after a week that had left her emptier than the glasses long ago abandoned by drunken patrons. Not even a goblet of Merlot or a shot of coffee liqueur (with a splash of cream) could chase away what ailed her.

No, tonight she sought only one means of release, and needed nothing but the tension simmering in her blood as fuel for the fire driving her to desperation.

Nights at Reverie were not for the faint of heart (or stomach), nor the chaste and mild. While technically not allowed in open spaces, more than half of the attendees usually found themselves with a partner by dawn; in one of the many private back rooms or curtained-off alcoves - or dark corners, even.

After all, what did they have to lose when the strings of your identity weren’t a factor?

Usually she’d been content to let the men and women come to her, and admittedly there hadn’t been a shortage of such… entanglements in the three months since she’d received her own mask.

But the time for coy shyness and drawn out flirtation was long gone. Leaning against one of the wall-to-floor Grecian columns at the edge of the room, she simply tossed back her hair and began to scan it for potential prey.

There was a generous sample size, it was true. A tall, lithe gentleman whose hair shone like spun gold, a flawlessly curved woman with rich brown skin, a broad redhead sporting a wide grin…

No, no, and no… none of them are just right.

She huffed with restrained frustration, tapping her foot to the string music playing a haunting melody that seemed to fill every space in the curved underground.

You know there’s only one person you wanted to find here tonight.

Perhaps she’d have to lower her standards - beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.

“There you are.”

Gasping, she pressed a palm to her satin covered chest, which heaved beneath the boning of her - possibly too tight - corset at the unexpected greeting. But what truly robbed her of breath until she was penniless… oh, gods.

They’d answered her prayers after all: the man standing behind her with a luminous grin was precisely the one she’d been hoping to see.

A regular, as luck would have it. She’d spotted him in attendance more often than not, but had never had the courage to approach (mainly due to the slew of witches and wizards who got to him first).

With her attraction being largely from afar, she’d assumed that his lack of…well, anything - other than a single dance lasting no more than five minutes - had meant he was uninterested. Though the smile he wore was genuine, not like the mask framing his dark eyes, and it sparked in the dim lighting cast from candelabras around the wide room.

“Here I am…?” She quirked a brow questioningly, hand lowering to her hip. “But, er, you must be mistaken. I’m not sure I’m the person you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you are.” His chuckle was somehow more musical than the quartet filling the air and more rough than smooth, but exquisitely rich - as was the material of his dark vest and the deep gray collared shirt rolled above his elbows.

“On account of the fact that I’d know that particular dress anywhere. We’ve never been properly introduced, as I recall.”

“You recall correctly.” She smiled - maybe coy was still in the cards, if only to spend more time with this handsome stranger.

“I suppose that’s frowned upon here really, so…I believe there’s a better way we could become acquainted, if you’d be amenable.”

She had to be impressed with his wanton confidence, if nothing else…though she got the sense there were many rather impressive things about him. Even more arresting was the boldness of his touch; broad hands reaching for hers to bring to his supple lips, where they lingered for a moment before releasing her gently.

Alright. He knew what he was doing.

But she had to play just a touch hard to get - if only to give him a taste of what he’d been dishing out for months (intentionally or otherwise). He’d been playing coy after their first and only real interaction; shooting her little winks and whispered hellos on random nights - only to disappear again amongst the all-black crowd without giving her a chance to respond.

Likely, he’d been going off to find some other witch or wizard for entertainment.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, a knowing smile playing on her own red-painted lips. “I don’t recall meeting you at all. Your face has a similar quality to many men here, you see.”

“Ah, somehow I doubt that.” Darkness collected in his dimples (how had she not noticed them before?)

“Saturday, precisely two months ago to the day, you were dancing in my arms wearing a red dress like you have on right now.” His voice was like honey and velvet as he spoke. With each word, he seemed to get closer.

And yes, of course she remembered. She was just surprised he still did.

It’s why she’d been stuck with a ridiculous, schoolgirl infatuation for weeks now; why she’d worn red each and every night in the hopes of catching his attention once more.

The brief escapades she’d busied herself with in the meantime had done in a pinch, but there was something about him she was positively dying to unravel. Perhaps it was the spark in those deep brown eyes - like the dark liquor she favored- that spoke of depths hidden far below the playful, self-assured surface.

Or maybe it was how he smelled from mere inches away, as he was now: pine, sandalwood, and a spicy scent akin to the smoke furling around him like a haze of fog.

“You’ve got quite the memory.” She mused, unable to stop her smile from bursting into full bloom. “I suppose that does ring a bell— you trodded on my foot.”

He groaned. “I’d had a lot of whiskey that night. I’m usually much more coordinated when sober. In fact…”

His fingers slid up her wrist, moving with slow caresses up her arm and shoulder until they came to rest beneath her jaw, angling it up to align with his gaze.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to ask…if you’d let me make it up to you?”

For a moment - just a breath, she hesitated. And why? This was exactly what she’d come for tonight, and with the man she’d lusted over for ages now falling right into her lap… what sort of woman would refuse?

It was something unidentifiable, intangible. A tug on her gut. Something that flashed in the white of his smile as it caught the candlelight. Like a sense of deja vu; there one second and gone the next, leaving her with nothing but the old itch crawling beneath her flushed skin.

“Presumptuous, certainly. But not unwelcome. Everyone deserves a second chance.” She purred, squaring her shoulders and allowing him to guide her to the edge of the room with one palm flat on her lower back.

What she’d expected was to be whisked away to one of the rooms tucked away in the back; filled with four poster beds and velvet curtains and enough firelight to be a safety hazard. Instead, he brought her up to the bar, catching the attention of its immaculately suited (and masked) tender with a wave of his finger. The movement distracted her while he ordered Merlin-even-knew what. She found herself watching the way his fingers curled and wrist turned with each gesture made, his palms visibly calloused - perhaps he had seen his fair share of combat, too - and the backs of his knuckles covered in freckles.

She had to wonder what constellations might be found if she dared to uncover the rest of him.

A glint of gold caught the light, mercifully returning her attention on the smiling eyes of the man who had taken to slipping a glass of red wine between her fingers.

“Shall we toast?” He asked, tilting his chin up in the direction of the raised goblet.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To…” his lips pursed thoughtfully. (Another startlingly distracting body part.) How pink and supple they looked, and how good they would taste when stained with burgundy…

“Liberation.“

Fitting, indeed.

“Santé.” She touched her chalice to his without breaking the meeting of their eyes.

“Slainte.”

The cloying bitterness of Merlot coated her tongue, filling her stomach with warmth - a taste she hadn’t encountered for years. One she missed dearly.

“How’d you know I’d like Merlot?” She licked wine from her bottom lip.

He spoke at the same time; thick brows arched high. “You’re French?”

They laughed, the sounds winding together into a hypnotic sort of harmony.

“You first.” He inclined his head.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m simply fluent in the language.” She couldn’t give away any secrets, not even the place of her birth.

“That accent was flawless. Nobody but a native could articulate like that.”

She shook her head coyly, though not without amusement.

“Fine.” A sigh that seemed almost long-suffering stirred the smoke coiling around them. “I prefer my women with a bit of mystery, anyway. As for your question, darling…”

Oh, he was a rogue through and through. His eyes greedily swept over every inch of her gown to settle on the curves and shapes he seemed to appreciate most before he even deigned to finish.

“It’s… bold. Much like you, if you don’t think me too audacious for saying so.”

He paused to take another sip, savoring the act of licking his lips as she had moments ago, and almost smugly noting her obvious interest. “And I’ve obviously noticed you enjoy the color red, even if that part’s a bit on the nose.”

“You could say that.” Her heart fluttered traitorously into her throat. His undivided and enthusiastic attention was not only a welcome surprise, but a conflicting one. It wouldn’t do to fall for a masked man - in the end, they could never truly know each other beyond the four walls that brought them together.

Reverie. A dream - that’s all. You’ll wake up in the morning.

She straightened her shoulders, resolved and refortified. “And do you? Enjoy the color, that is?”

Her voice was low, only audible due to the minute distance between them, the man tilting his head down towards her as one finger grazed the dip of her neckline.

“What’s not to love?” He mused. “Red represents… vitality. Danger. Passion…”

Her skin prickled in the wake of the trail he drew from collar to shoulder and down her arm, and when it found her free hand, their fingers threaded together with such ease that they could have done it a thousand times before.

He could hear her heart, couldn’t he? With that amount of surety behind his stare, there was no doubt she was being read like an open book.

“That’s why we keep coming back here, isn’t it?” He was near enough now that every word was felt as a cloud of heat gracing her wine-flushed cheeks.

“Because we relish danger, and need passion like air. We all come to feel… alive.”

“Hmm. It’s almost as if you prepared that line beforehand.” She laughed.

His was such a beautiful sound, bubbling like champagne and leaving her with a warm feeling as if she’d tasted it herself.

“Let’s say I did… is it working?”

”Absolutely.”

Whatever spell had allowed them to maintain a sense of decorum shattered after that confirmation, which said so much more than was spoken aloud. The look exchanged between them was another conversation in itself; a volley of traded questions and answers that sent pure lightning skittering up her spine.

“Come with me.” He said abruptly (though not without a dutiful incline of his head; dark hair shining with veins of red in the candlelight) before tugging her away from the bar, where their drinks were hastily abandoned.

It seemed he was just as content to curse restraint, pulling her along with such haste that she tripped on her skirts (more than once) - evidently forgetting his longer legs and her tall heels as she bumped into a distracted patron that was left with a spilled drink, a scowl, and a breathless apology she didn’t quite mean.

They paused at the mouth of the corridor tucked in the back. It was lined with nothing but identical doors of deepest mahogany: some tightly shut, some cracked, and others yet wide open.

The meaning behind each was simple enough: shut meant “do not disturb”, cracked meant “listen or join, if you dare”, and wide open meant “vacant”. The wizard gave her a boyish grin as they all but stumbled to a stop in front of one that remained ajar and beckoned with soft golden light from the candles within.

“What are you waiting for?” She panted.

Without waiting on so much as a blink, her hand fisted in the crisp white of his button down, guiding him through the threshold before the slam of wood against the frame echoed in the empty chamber.

“A witch who knows what she wants, I see.” He chuckled, his hands needing no invitation to wind around her waist until their bodies molded at each curve.

“Well, you’ve been taunting me for a while, haven’t you?”

She took advantage of her hold on his clothes, forgoing the ease of simply waving her wand when she could take the opportunity to feel every inch of skin she revealed by releasing the buttons on his shirt.

Freckled - just as she’d suspected, and with a neat nest of dark hair over the swell of his pectorals that her palms begged to rest on.

“Wait, wait.” He huffed, hands coming to halt hers before they had time to slide the heavy coat from his shoulders.

“No - not wait as in stop -“ he’d seen the crease between her brows. “Wait, as in… slow down.”

”You seemed rather impatient a minute ago when you were dragging me through the place.” She said wryly.

“Impatient to get you alone, yes.” His knuckle grazed her cheek gently, reverently studying what little of her face he was able to see.

“But…” It was as transient as a ghost, at first. A phantom of touch over the swell of her lip, and then firmer as his thumb outlined the shape. “I’d very much like to kiss you first. May I?”

That he even asked such a question - let alone made his intentions to savor the night clear - was enough to poke another hole in her notions of a one-night affair. What if she couldn’t stand to never have this man again when it was over?

Well… there was always the luxury of dreams.

“Yes, of course.” She whispered.

She’d been right earlier - the taste of wine clung to the corners of his mouth, somehow even sweeter when combined with a hint of peppermint cooling the sharp breath he took the moment their lips fit together effortlessly. Her tongue sought to part them in search of the buzz that the alcohol couldn’t take credit for; finding his and groaning with delight as he melted into her.

A soft tug on her scalp announced the presence of his fingers as they threaded through strands of hair with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all space between them. Eagerly he rolled their tongues together, smearing the red painted on her lips across his chin.

They only paused to share a breath that left her dizzy. The sight of his skin stained with rouge was more beautiful than any art piece hanging on the tapestried walls - and there would be more colors adorning it by the end of the night, if she had anything to say about it.

“Now…” The brunet exhaled when they broke apart, lips brushing with each word. “Now, you can take off my clothes.”

No need to tell her twice.

His vest slumped to the floor, giving her leave to continue her work on that long trail of buttons ending at the waist of his trousers. Before long it, too, was little more than a rag at their feet. When she was privy to every square inch of his bare torso, her hands took liberties to caress the panes of his chest, marveling without shame.

“If you’ll allow me the honor, I’d like to even the score.” His voice was near a husk as he watched her intently.

No complaints arose (alright, perhaps one — when he spun her around; effectively depriving her of the ability to keep touching him) as the skilled wizard sought the eye hooks at the back of her bodice, dexterous fingers releasing each one with a snap that seemed to echo. All the while his mouth found her skin - tongue laving over her throat, teeth nipping where it met her shoulder to plant a bloom of deepest red.

“Mmm… keep doing that.” She hummed appreciatively, head lolling to the side.

“You don’t mind if I leave you a few reminders to find in the morning?” He chuckled. By then, he’d succeeded in freeing her of the constricting garment, tossing it to the carpet by the fire before he started to untie her skirt.

“Not at all.”

”Good,” another kiss, just below her ear this time. “Because I want to be able to see that it’s still there next time we meet.”

If he wasn’t careful, she’d start to think he already had plans to do this again.

She didn’t wait for him to move her this time; taking control back once she was only clad in her underthings by going for the buttons holding up his bottoms. Oddly enough, her fingers took on a tremulous quality - one she’d rarely (if ever) experienced in an intimate moment since her very first.

He seemed to adopt a similar growing impatience that made him forgo the back and forth to slip the sleeves of her chemise down, guiding the garment over her figure.

”Gods, you’re a vision.” He groaned and reached for the curve of her waist, feeling out the shape only to travel upwards until he could cup a breast in each hand, thumbs teasing the peaks hardened against the air.

Even as she shivered when he leaned down to bestow a kiss on either one, she managed to get him out of everything but the long undergarments concealing that which she craved most. But when she went for them, he stopped her yet again - catching her wrist only to sweep the startled witch into his awaiting arms with a self-satisfied grin.

The mattress depressed beneath her weight, bouncing back as she blew away a stray lock of hair to look up at him. Watching the way his arms — corded with thick veins — flexed and his eyes narrowed. With barely concealed impatience he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his hands around her thighs.

“Quite the man handler, you are.” She giggled once he’d yanked her towards him so her legs fell open on either side of his knees.

That drew the attention of his wandering eyes.

“Somehow I doubt that was a complaint.” His mouth quirked in earnest. ”Nor do I envision you’ll have any after I’m done with you.”

He began to toy with the idea of removing her drawers - the last thing preventing her from losing her mind, potentially - by sliding his fingers beneath their frilly hems, nails prickling the skin of her thighs as they scratched up and down in a taunting rhythm.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered out of the clear blue. “Anything. The only things I know about you are that you’re French, love the color red and Merlot… oh, and you’re a much better dancer than me.”

Sharing random factoids wasn’t necessarily the foreplay she’d been expecting, nor the kind she was used to, but she couldn’t say she minded when his voice alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Uhmm…” She had to think of something vague; a throwaway tidbit useless to anyone else.

While he watched, waited with wide and patient eyes, she sighed, “I can’t go a day without coffee. Never quite developed a taste for tea. And I drink it with three sugars.”

He blinked twice in quick succession. All the while he had yet to stop playing with the edges of her knickers, though he gradually let one hand inch up her covered thigh, as if testing the waters. But, she wondered… what was there to test? He had been so self-assured outside this room, yet now there was a hint of nerves beneath the cool exterior.

”So dark and sweet is the way you like it, huh?” He simply couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

The smirk she donned was enough of an answer. “Tell me something about you, then.”

”Me… well.” His mouth quirked before he shifted on the bed - lying on his stomach to greet the center of hers with a kiss. Then each of her hips with a gentle nip.“I love to read. Anything I can get my hands on, really. Fiction, nonfiction, magical and otherwise… I’ll devour it all.”

A slight pinch followed by the softness of his lips alerted her to another cluster of marks he began working onto her lower stomach, covering as much ground as he could on her thighs. His breath, heating her core as it came in little pants, was beginning to become a significant problem - one made her feel warm and heavy. Like sinking into a hot bath, if it were near-boiling.

“In fact, if I had to pick my favorite place in the world, it would be sitting in front of a fire with a good book.” His fingertip ever so slightly grazed the inner curve of her thigh.

“A man of charm and intelligence…how ever did I get so fortunate?”

He chuckled at her teasing lilt, the sound tickling her sensitive skin while he began to make way for the kisses left up the length of her thigh — bunching her drawers up until his fingers just brushed the soft nest of curls at the top.

“Although right now I have to say; I’m very much enjoying this spot, as well.” The wicked man smiled up at her.

“Well, if you’re waiting for an invitation, you’ve got it.” She tried to sound casual about it all, but truth be told, she was fighting every urge to rip his underwear off and throw him onto the bed herself like some sort of madwoman.

He might make her into one before the sun rose, anyway.

She was sure of it when he began pressing tortuously chaste kisses to her other thigh, and when his fingers slid lower to deliver a gentle stroke down the center of her slit had her shuddering with anticipation.

“And how long have you been this wet, love?” His deep rasp was muffled by the fabric of her underwear.

She chuckled. “Hmm…since the moment you took me to the bar, probably.”

He sat up with a distinctly prideful grin, slipping the soft cotton undergarments down her legs, his eyes alight as he settled back between them.

She could almost see the words hanging off his lips as he gazed up at her (that sight was enough to make her hips shift needily), but for whatever reason, they weren’t cut loose. No, he busied his mouth with far more important pursuits. After pausing briefly to indulge his eyes in an appreciative sweep of her naked body, he at last found the perfect spot to make her whine (and on the first try, too) with naught but a languorous sweep of his tongue.

It wasn’t nearly enough to quell any bit of the ache driving her into inevitable madness, but he showed her mercy by flattening the wet muscle against her folds and following a slow trail up until the tip of it lightly flicked her clit.

“Oh, please do that again.” She pleaded (had she been reduced to begging so quickly?), one hand inching towards her breast — seeking any more stimulation she could find — as the other slid through the silken waves atop his head.

He obliged. But with more pressure this time, and so, so slow, observing her reaction as if she were the most scintillating thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It really was something about those eyes. With such unfairly long lashes that fanned over russet cheeks, and the way the candlelight flickering off the walls would touch them just so to light the near-black irises with a rich gold. His lips stretched against her skin, noticing her attention and giving her an approving hum that was met by the push of her hips towards his tongue.

“Mmmph —“ he grunted when her thighs pressed to his ears, entrapping him between them greedily. “Like that, do you?”

Her answering moan earned another grin followed by a gentle suck on her clit that only brought out another breathy, low sound.

“But gods, you taste so sweet…decadent, just as I’d said.”

Merlin, his voice…the way it rumbled with barely contained desire and pulled obscenities from her own throat was sinful.

Drowning in sin didn’t seem such a bad way to go, at present.

The possibility became reality once he re-added a finger to the mix; curling it beneath his tongue to trace the folds before sinking gradually into her awaiting heat.

“Oh, f—“

One of her own fingers rolled her nipple atop the breast she’d been playing with as she shivered. If he kept this up much longer, she would surely come undone right on his tongue; wrapped around that rough digit gliding in and out of her as it stroked her upper walls.

But that didn’t feel right. As wonderful as the softness of his lips enclosing around her clit was, she couldn’t imagine a proper substitute for the stretch his cock would provide instead.

“I need…” she had been about to voice her request when the tip of his tongue prodded her entrance. Both of her hands now gripped his auburn waves like they were keeping her tethered to earth, legs trembling with the effort to fight off the warmth swelling in her core.

“Need what?” He took an eager breath in, only to release it through pursed lips over the throbbing bud he seemed to adore. “I want to hear it loud and clear, lovely.”

An impatient groan parted her bitten lips. “I need more. I need you inside me when you make me come.”

“There you go. Gods, you sound so pretty when you ask to be fucked…” It took one last excruciating pump of his finger inside of her before he withdrew to push himself up onto his knees with a mess of her own making shining on his clean-shaven chin.

“First, though…” The finger coated with her fluids was sucked between his reddened lips. When it was pulled out with a slick, slow draw, he crooked it in her direction. “Come here. I want you to get a little taste, too.”

Don’t mind if I do.

On trembling hands she raised herself up on wobbly knees pressed into the soft mattress, sucking in a breath when she curled her fingers over the band of his underwear and waited for approval.

“Don’t be shy.” He coaxed gently.

It was difficult not to be at least a little intimidated by the proud shape outlined through his bottoms (and leaving a very telltale wet spot in the light fabric), but she pushed past it with a firm swallow.

Her breath whooshed out without prompting as she rolled them over his hips and the rather shapely swell of his backside. And, as it had before taking a sip of the wine he’d offered earlier, her mouth watered when she was rewarded with the view of his cock as it twitched at the first rush of air over the leaking tip.

Personally, she wasn’t much of an artist. She preferred a wand to a brush and blood over red paint, but there was something about him that begged to be immortalized on canvas. How satisfying it would be to perfectly capture the artful tapering from wide shoulders to a slimmer waist, or even to carve from marble the thickness of his thighs.

She doubted it would do him justice.

“Are you going to paint a portrait?” He teased, as if ripping those very thoughts from her mind.

“Just might. And could you blame me?” She answered with a bite of her lip. But there was too much bloody talk going on. In the spirit of action, she lowered her mouth to meet the curve of his hipbone and began marking a wet trail downwards.

The light scrape of his fingernail over her cheekbone made her lashes flutter as he tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, his breathing growing more labored when her palm slipped over the softness of his length — only to fold her fingers around it with gentle pressure. By the time she brushed her lips over the head — then her tongue to collect the salty fluid now leaking down the shaft — he was keening under his breath.

“Mmhmm…keep going, please.” he murmured.

As if she would stop. On the contrary, she wrapped her mouth around him, making a circle around the ridge of his cockhead with the tip of her tongue only to trace the length of him by following a thick vein. He was thick — stretching her lips wide when she took him in inch by inch, allowing him to prod the back of her throat to moisten her mouth.

“Just like that. You’re doing brilliantly, love; just perfect.” He said breathlessly, scraping her hair back into a haphazard updo with a broad hand.

Spurred on by the praise, she hollowed her cheeks for a better seal, dragged her mouth along his shaft until he rewarded her with a broken, guttural moan. She kept it up until finding a rhythm that his hips desperately pushed forward to match.

“I won’t… fuck, you’re going to make me embarrass myself…” he chuckled weakly.

Well that wouldn’t do at all. As much as the idea of swallowing his seed enticed her, there was a far better option in her mind. Which is why, despite his immediate protest in the form of a low grunt and a harsh tug on her hair, she gave one last slow lick before pulling away.

The increasingly flustered wizard tracked her movements with lust-glazed eyes. “I was hoping to drag this out, but I think you’re proper ready for me, aren’t you?”

Her enthusiastic nod spurred a laugh as he unfolded her legs from beneath her, wasting no time in hooking one around his hips and propping the other up to rest on his shoulder. The view was… magnificent, and he seemed to agree as his tongue darted out to taste her essence on his lips.

She’d expected another round of teasing. How relieved she was when instead, the blunt head of his cock parted her readily, sweeping through the slickness there with a stuttered, needy groan.

And just when she was about to insist —

A gasp tore through her dry throat as he pushed himself inside of her with little resistance. She was suddenly so full; though it wasn’t until he was fully sheathed that she let out a long, breathy sigh.

“Good? You alright?” He murmured, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of her thighs. When she nodded, his mouth curled into a smile that she felt amidst the kisses left along her calf.

Oh, it was more than good — by the time he dragged his length out just to drive himself forward again, she was positively keening for more; her hands blindly reaching for some part to grab and managing to splay them flat on his lower back to force him deeper. He could hardly fight her, and it seemed like he didn’t want to anyway. The wizard’s eyes had grown hooded with lust, those sumptuous lips parting to make way for a moan that sent a shock down her spine. Her own eyes fluttered shut as he began to glide in and out of her in languid, practiced thrusts.

“Mm mmm,” he hummed chastingly. “I’d like to see those pretty eyes.”

His boldness — so wildly sexy.

Looking at him was almost a taboo in itself. Nine times out of then, her trysts had involved a lot of pleasure-filled sounds and heavy breathing; but conversation? Not so much. Some people didn’t even like to be kissed — and others found a prolonged gaze entirely too intimate.

This man didn’t just fuck. It was a different experience altogether, and it was bloody incredible. So, like the hopelessly besotted witch she was, she met his gaze and responded with a wanton moan at the sight of his head thrown back in pleasure while his hips made wide circles against hers.

“Gods, you fit like a glove,” his body shuddered with a stuttered exhale. “Feel so good…”

She canted her hips up to meet his in protest of his lazy pace, earning a broken chuckle before being rewarded with the head of his cock roughly probing her to its absolute limit.

“Godric…” she whined pathetically. “Again — right there.”

“Is Godric Gryffindor the one providing your pleasure right now?” He mocked. “No, I don’t think so.”

”Well, then tell me your name, and I’ll scream it as much as you want.”

Locks of mussed hair fell over his forehead as the man shook his head, ignoring her small pout, but soothing the disappointment by giving her something else she’d wanted.

Again, he speared himself nice and deep. And again; and again, until her nails were carving crescents into the muscle of his back and he was whispering streams of filth into her ears between husky groans. Just when she was about to warn him of her rapidly approaching release, he had to go and stop — worst of all, he dragged his length out of her.

“You must be joking,” she panted.

A wicked grin told her she was in for it, and her thighs squeezed together in anticipation as he twirled his finger midair. “Oh, we’re not done. Sit up for me, love, and turn around. That’s it… now put your hands on the headboard.”

When her fingers curled around the solid chunk of wood, the bed dipped and creaked as he came up behind her, chest to spine and fingers curling over hers.

“Make sure you’re holding on tight.” Without warning, he ripped a sharp cry from her throat by driving back into her lonely heat until his hip bones dug into her ass and she swore she could see the night sky in that very room.

“Buggering hell —“ she blurted. This new angle was sure to be the end of her, and he was well aware of it from the delighted chuckle he huffed in her ear.

”You’ve got such a mouth on you for a lady… damned if I don’t love it.” The wizard panted with pride.

He wasn’t taking it easy on her any longer. The sheer force of his thrusts was enough to rock the bed frame against the wall; the thuds as the headboard struck exposed brick likely heard by everyone in the surrounding rooms (not that she had any room to care in her sex addled brain). It was enough to wring every last coherent thought from her, rendering her a shaking, mewling mess and unable to do anything but meet each snap of his hips with her own — while holding on for dear life.

“Oh, yes…” he was on his way to leaving bruises on her hip from the force of his steadying grip, but the sparks of pain only led her to greater pleasure.

Well-attuned to the signs of her mounting release as it threatened to overwhelm her for the third time, he released her hand to reach around and find her clit, abandoning the precision and prowess from before. Those dexterous fingers worked tirelessly, and coupled with the uneven little pants warming her neck between his kisses…

“I know you’re close, love,” he shuddered. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

He threw every last bit of his energy into shoving her over the edge; and as his cock prodded that spot inside of her once more, she gave in and fell apart under his hands. Every unbridled, broken sound that tumbled out as she rode through her orgasm was met with an encouraging whimper from the wizard. Just when the last bit of pleasure was wrung from her body, he pulled out with a groan, releasing ropes of warm seed over her backside and spine.

There he rested for a moment. While he caught his breath, the man’s hands traced the shape of her body, slipping in the essence coating her with a proud chuckle. “Evanesco.” he murmured, restoring her skin to its unmarred state.

“Are you…” he gulped in a lungful of sex-scented air. “Are you alright?”

“Brilliant.” She panted, letting go of the headboard to turn and rest her back against it instead. “You?”

It was an understatement, really: all that stress pounding between her temples and tension in her shoulders had disappeared. She felt spectacular.

“Never better.”

He sank back to his knees, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he admired her with a lazy grin. How she wished she could peel the satin from his cheeks to see that smile reach his dark eyes…

“Only wanted to make sure. You were getting quite loud.” The question seemed more taunt than anything.

Walking might prove difficult for the next couple of hours (at the least), and her hair was likely in a right state (along with her marked-up skin), but none of that mattered when the lingering rush instilled her with a rare lightness.

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. I was very much enjoying the sounds you made. Means I did my job well.”

She gave him a playful eye roll, rolling onto her side with the intention of returning to the solace of his arms before she realized — pillow talk and cuddling were sort of an unspoken faux pas when it came to casual encounters. Usually, her or her partners would leave the bed before the sweat had dried on their skin, and for once the expectation felt…lonely.

It truly struck her when he cleared his throat a moment later, gingerly untangling their weakened limbs to climb out of the bed seeking the various items of clothing discarded across the room.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyes darting to her before he located his pants. “Water, food..? Anything.”

Though appreciative, she waved his offer away with a quiet laugh. “I’ll be just fine. Though I’m sure I’ll need a hot bath at home.”

Sitting idly in bed while he already had a foot out the door picked at her pride, and so the Auror dragged herself out of it on trembling fawn’s legs. She managed to locate her underthings and slip them on before plucking her gown up from the floor.

“Oh,” a flash of gold caught her eye, and she bent to retrieve his trousers — as well as the shiny pocket watch that had evidently fallen out while they were distracted earlier. “Here, you don’t want to lose this.”

He was dragging his shirt over his bed head when she walked over to return it. She couldn’t help but admire the piece’s subtle artistry; the metal so perfectly preserved with intricate curling ivy etched into the rim of the case. Such a unique design…

So unique that she could easily recall seeing one just like it before.

And it, too, had been monogrammed with the letter S.

If he hadn’t snatched the watch out of her hand before the shock hit, she might have dropped and broken one of the last artifacts of the Sallow family.

Merlin, the irony of her asking for his name to say it in bed when she wanted to scream it in outrage now. And of course he had the audacity to take a step towards her, to soften his wide brown eyes (how had she looked into them and not known) and adopt an innocent frown; the one he had always used before begging for forgiveness.

She took a step back in turn and fixed him with a look that could have frozen the fire in the hearth. It was enough to confirm for him exactly what conclusion she’d reached.

“Blast it all, it is you.” He breathed.

“Sebastian?”

[poughkeepsies]

Buddie Secret Relationship Conspiracy Manifesto

Hello. Welcome to possibly the most delusional buddie theory yet. This is a collaboration with @swiftiebuckleys, and as such I would like to cite our sources accordingly: dude, trust us.

Okay so I know a lot of people have talked about the theory of buddie possibly being in a secret relationship that is even a secret from the audience during season 6. For me, this started during 6A. It started because I was thinking about how 601 started with such a poignant and domestic Buckley-Diaz family scene that, as a part of a premier that was meant to establish where the characters are after four months of hiatus, told us Buck, Eddie and Christopher are living in each other's pockets as their own little family at the start of the season (I even wrote about this in this meta I posted while 6a was airing lmao).

But then for the rest of 6A there really wasn't any significant on-screen buddie or Buckley-Diaz moments, even though there was plenty that was implied at, including: Buck and Eddie planning to go to Marisol's house to help with repairs without the rest of the firefam, Buck and Chris hanging out so Chris potentially telling Buck the secret about skipping school even though he didn't tell Eddie, Buck and Eddie sitting in the back of the waiting room together separate from the rest of the firefam while they waited for news about Karen, and Eddie giving Hoover to Buck and convincing him to keep him even though his building doesn't allow dogs. What do all but one of these moments have in common? They're moments where Buck and Eddie were either alone or away from anyone who would know them from the rest of the gang and wouldn't feel the need to hide their relationship. When at work, Buck and Eddie had a reasonably normal amount of on-screen interactions, but it was only their moments happening outside of work that was pushed to the off-screen. (Bonus: one on-screen 6A moment that lives in my head rent-free and screams of secret relationship is that shot of them stepping into frame together and holding eye contact while the song lyrics in the bg go "I want your sex and your affection when I'm holding you close" in 609.)

However, while this^ is all well and good, it's 6B that really gives the secret relationship theory its wings.

Episode 10 gave us the lightning strike with a sequence that was shot almost entirely from the perspective of Eddie. While in the initial aftermath of the strike we see the shock on Hen, Chimney, and Bobby's faces, the scene is in slow-motion and muted until Eddie realizes what's going on and we watch every minute facial expression on his face as the horror dawns and he snaps into action. Eddie's reaction is what sparks everyone else's movement and then we see him completely forgo his own injuries and his own safety to save Buck. In the secret relationship trope, the near-death experience is a lot of the time what forces the couple to blow their cover and reveal their relationship. That didn't happen here as buddie were already close enough to warrant the strength of Eddie's reaction and Buck was unresponsive and there wasn't any time to lose. HOWEVER, episode 11 and the absence of a scene with Eddie alone at Buck's bedside can be explained by the fact that he couldn't be shone there or his bedside confessions would have given them away to the audience. As it is, other than Margaret and Maddie, Buck's mother and sister, he's the only one dressed in all black, his composure crumbling and unable to make eye contact with Buck's body in the hospital bed, the perfect picture of a grieving widow.

Episode 12 has the infamous couch scene which is meant to signal to the audience that Eddie is the couch Buck has been searching for, even if Buck himself doesn't know it. However, in the context of the secret relationship theory, what if the total lack of reaction from Eddie about Buck falling asleep on his couch is because they already know this?

Episode 13 has the infamous poker scene and this is where the theory actually diverges for a lot of people. Going with the original theory that buddie have been together since before 6A, this would explain Buck's lack of reaction to Eddie telling him to get dressed up and taking him out on what is essentially a date - he wasn't surprised or suspicious because it wasn't unusual. If you go back and watch the scene, you'll notice that it opens right when Buck and Eddie are approaching the door and about to be in the presence of other firefighters, but initially they're walking away from a dark alley while fixing their clothes - why would they need to fix their clothes unless they got messed up in the first place? Why wouldn't they show us the before or after of the poker scene, why only the parts where they're in the presence of other people from the department? Plus, Eddie really was looking TOO blatantly hungry in that entire scene, and he wasn't really hiding it from Buck - maybe because he's allowed, and expected, to look. This isn't even to mention the scenes of Buck, Eddie, and Christopher being a family, but I will go back to those later.

Where this episode splits this theory is the alternate potential for them to have gotten together after the poker game (my initial post after the episode first came out.) This would have been the perfect opportunity because there's really no way that if they weren't already together, the thought that this might be a date hadn't crossed Buck's mind (and, again, Eddie really did look too fucking horny in that scene it wasn't something you could ignore.) The next outside of work scene we see the Buckley-Diaz' in is the baking scene with Buck and Christopher. Eddie's location is completely unknown - he could be on shift, he could be running errands, he could be with Pepa - but the fact that Buck and Chris are together and baking for his class and planning dinner really drives home the fact that they are a family once again. However, the easy confidence of Buck parenting Christopher and the way he glowed with happiness in that moment would make even more sense if he had had his place in the Diaz family as Eddie's partner and Christopher's other parent confirmed to him.

One way to possibly combine the two theories is if we assume that Buck and Eddie were actually fwb throughout 6A (an idea given to me by @captainragtag) but actually got together after the poker scene. ANOTHER way is if we assume they've only been fwb, even after the poker scene. Them being fwb would potentially explain some holes in the theory, moments where they should have had a bigger reaction to something or known something beforehand if they were in a relationship (kind of the sperm donor arc and Eddie's reaction, but that could also be explained by Eddie's lack of reaction being because he already knew and was just pretending to be finding out for the first time with everyone else.)

Going into episode 14, all of these theories could explain the *gestures vaguely* everything about Eddie's storyline in the episode. If they're hiding a relationship, the absence of any mentions of Buck when talking about Eddie (and Christopher) being alone would make sense, especially after how pointedly the previous episode showed that Eddie is always spending his free time with Buck, with or without Christopher. It would also explain Buck's extremely unsubtle date-ruining advice - either they're together and Buck just doesn't want Eddie to go on the date because he doesn't want to share even to keep up pretenses, or they're fwb and Buck is jealous and afraid to lose Eddie and their relationship if Eddie starts actually dating. Also, considering how many pure fanfic tropes the writers have used before, it's safe to assume they have at least a baseline knowledge of how buddie are written by fans and what's the first trope every fanfic reader in this fandom learns about? Christopher's first and foremost wingman duty is to pack his stuff and go to a sleepover so his dads can do unholy things to each other. Christopher being at a sleepover when Pepa told Eddie to come over and him insisting that he was alone at home when just last episode we saw buddie spending all their time off shift together is just a little too sus if you ask me. Another secret relationship moment in the episode is Eddie going for the wrong gear shift in his own car. He initially reached for the gear shift on the center console when that's not where it is in his truck. But do you know where the gear shift is in a jeep? I'll give you one guess. Do we know anyone who owns a jeep? I'll give you another guess. This would make total sense since we know Eddie is a passenger princess and Buck would be driving them everywhere if they were in a relationship. Even when Buck isn't the one driving, Eddie would be much more likely to borrow his car more often if they were in a relationship and basically living together.

If this all doesn't convince you, I would like to leave you with the reminder of a moment that I'm sure has haunted all of us since 614 came out:

Actors are always aware when they're on camera and even if they aren't, the dozens of production people, including the director, would be. Do with that what you will.

(If anyone has anything they'd like to add to this feel free to message me or send me an ask and I'll make edits! And, I mean, this is all just for fun not to be taken seriously, but if there is a point that you think really brings the theory down also feel free to send me an ask about that lets see if I can provide a suitable explanation.)

edit: another thing to keep in mind as pointed out by the brilliant @swiftiebuckleys is the precedent set by 606 "Tomorrow" for flashbacks showing the start of a relationship.

[bonefall]

While we’re talking changing who appears in places- can we change the cats helping out with Sunbeam’s rock trial? I was so confused why the cats selected to help were selected. Sure Cherryfall because she was going to be the one opposing Sunbeam, why not, anyone can do that though honestly and not who I take issue with being there. But Alderheart was there? The medicine cat? Don’t you think he has better things to be doing than pushing a rock around? Where’s Lionblaze aka “I may as well still have my god given super strength”? He could easily be the cat that gets pissy for Sunbeam “not listening to senior warriors” and maybe with age feels that she doesn’t respect him, head of patrols, enough to warrant her staying this sabotaging her in the third trial. I felt robbed that Plumstone who seemed to be established as another bg strong cat was absent. Sure sending Sunbeam with all the strongest cats would make it easy but it’d also be making it safe considering Ivypool didn’t want the rock to hurt anyone and it’s a pecking rock. Why not send your strongest cats to deal with it?

I feel very strongly about this trial, can you tell?

I'm a bit dissatisfied with certain trials in general. Most of the time I LOVE the new trials they made, I think they've been super creative so far, but some have been so lackluster that I need to shine them up.

Namely Berryheart's active attempts to get challengers killed. Someone has to get ACTUALLY hurt by one of those, instead of them just being generally unfair and no one raises an objection about it. I did not like the spring-powered adder that went BOING out of a log.

I will say that I would like to expand on Plumstone in this arc, plus her whole little family. They're in an interesting place, with Bumblestripe coming back from Ferncloud's Parting while leaving his father with the Tribe, Blossomfall still reeling with emotional abuse she suffered at the paws of the impostor, Stemleaf's death and Spotfur raising his kits, and Shellfur's mateship with Fernstripe.

Plumstone ALSO has some stuff going on. She's besties-maybe-dating Thriftear, Bristlefrost's sister, and yet she's one of the more outspoken cats about how she's getting tired of the ThunderClan nepotism. She's strong, reliable, and a competent warrior-- so HOW is it fair that Nightheart keeps getting all these undeserved "chances to prove himself" when SHE is here, SIGNIFICANTLY more orange, and wants her own chance to shine??

I still see her personality as being "a dear" lmao, she's not mean, but she's also not willing to bite her tongue either. She will say what's on her mind, and point out unfair treatment when she feels it.

Thriftear supports this. Yeah, she's a descendant of Firestar and a great warrior, but she EARNED the respect she gets. Bristlefrost did too. Nightheart doesn't even want his legacy, why is this clumsy humbug still getting special treatment?

Good-cat bad-cat pair type thing going on.

So I'm probably going to let them both act as a unit, since BB's Dewnose isn't in ThunderClan and that was a really random pair-up anyway.

("wait! Elder Bones! Where did Dewnose go?" Probably ShadowClan, here is the BB!ThunderClan family tree. There's been shuffles; the Cloudbright kits are now Whitewing, Foxleap, and Icecloud, 3 "singlet" litters, spaced out over years.)

Quickie thoughts on touching up the trials;

(DISCLAIMER: NOT SOLID. WE DON'T REWORK UNTIL ARCS ARE COMPLETE.)

Berryheart's are going to need serious overhauls. Nightheart's were really cute and I enjoyed them, but BB is supposed to be about how her group is escalating towards violence. I do not want them to stay so "cute" for the story I'm telling.

I also don't want to keep Nightheart failing his last one on purpose. I want his growth to be more based in self-realization than trying to let Sunbeam "save face."

I kinda want Fringewhisker to get injured during one of her own, and then Antfur dies as collateral damage in Nightheart's last. I'd like Nightheart leaving to be half him realizing that his BEHAVIOR is a problem, and half for his own safety.

In ThunderClan, I'd like the boulder one to be more about Sunbeam assembling a team, almost like she's a patrol head.

Since it's her second trial and she displayed some pretty fantastic leadership skills with her first one, I've got an inkling of an idea that Squilf actually talked with Ivy about wanting to legitimately assess her talent.

Like, "We both know that this whole trial-system was just to appease the other Clans. These are meant to be easy because idgaf. But wow, Sunbeam was actually impressive with those kits. What else can she do, if we give her the chance?"

I really like writing Squilf as she's described in Bramblestar's Storm, where her good leadership comes from being attentive of details and making everyone feel useful.

Man... maybe ill save Rosepetal for this arc and let her be deputy during this. Something feels very Rosepetaly about this. Maybe even have Rosepetal be clearly treating her as if she's a Secondary Apprentice, preparing her to take over her reputation of being a prolific mentor... Nightheart comes back from his trip only to find Sunbeam with twice as much respect as status as he ever had.

I can always axe Rose later to get Ivypool in... But I also REALLY love all the Ivypool Deputy Drama with how there's a conflict with ShadowClan... man. why are there so many interesting girls.

Maybe Rose doesn't have to be deputy, but Ivy assigns Rosepetal as the only "mandatory member" of the Boulder Patrol. Like a tutorial tip lmaooo

Sunbeam: "I think I will pick......................" STARES AT ROSEPETAL, "aaalderrr-" Rosepetal frowns "--pluuuuumstone??" Rosepetal nods, "Wise choice."

And lastly. The final Sunbeam trial. Ngl hated it. It felt really boring compared to the previous two, which were super interesting and excellent ways to give some spotlight to background characters.

Riddles don't even feel like a ThunderClan thing. Idk that was a very RiverClan (philosophy) or ShadowClan (trickery) kind of thing.

I think I'll hold off on thinking about it though; I think it would be SUPER cool if I totally overhauled that last trial to make it foreshadow the later books, somehow.

I DO want to keep that disney channel ass Cherryfall being a bitch part though. I love her so much. I'm so glad she's walking in her father's pawsteps and becoming the snot-nosed brat of ThunderClan.

I will definitely be changing how Sunbeam HANDLES it though. Hate the way that the books emphasize never telling anyone anything.

In fact, I kinda want to make Sunbeam approach Sparkpelt for advice, to show she finally has a figure she feels like she can trust.

Explicitly contrast the way that she NEVER felt like she could approach Berryheart, and that so much of her appeasing, avoidant behavior had been because she didn't feel safe or respected.

Here, in ThunderClan, she has family. She begins to realize that even if Nightheart came back and dumped her, Sparkpelt and Finchlight would NEVER kick her to the curb.

So she goes to Sparkpelt about how she is being bullied by Cherryfall, and they TALK ABOUT OPTIONS.

Like, you know,

Spark: "We could go to Squirrelstar or the deputy."

Sun: "I don't want to cause a fuss if I don't have to... besides, idk, I don't want to set the peat on fire, it would be nice if I could be on good terms with Cherryfall later."

Spark: "that's very wise of you, but just remember that Squilst is a very fair person. We can always go to her. Do you want any backup at all or do you want to do this on your own?"

Sun: "I think... I think I actually do need to do this on my own. If I was being confronted, I think I would just double down if I was being attacked in a group. That was right with Brambleclaw because you weren't trying to convince him, but... what do you think?"

Spark: "I think Cherryfall's just like her father and her ego is everything to her, so I think you're right on the mouse with all this. Honestly, I don't even know how much I'm helping here!"

Sun: "Oh but you are helping! You're helping a lot! StarClan... it feels so nice to just... have someone to listen. Thanks, Sparkpelt."

Basically, tweak the trials to bring them more in line with the themes and messages of BB, y'know? And also beef up the Clans themselves, by stressing the various personalities that are at play here. Especially since I quite like how Sunbeam in ThunderClan has some super neat traits she wasn't expressing in ShadowClan.

Like... it feels like it could be a really cool story to tell about how supportive environments can make you really shine. How you can suddenly seem like a brand new person, just by having people who have your back and encourage your autonomy.

[maingh0st]

The hate Taryn gets is way too exaggerated and disproportionate. It’s just straight up misogyny at this point, in my opinion. The fandom needs to get over it.

I could literally write a treatise about Taryn-hate at this point lmao. I’m going to share some thoughts (this actually got quite long), but I want to include a big ole disclaimer: at the end of the day, everybody gets to engage in fandom in the ways they want. everyone is free to love or hate whichever characters they want, for the reasons that feel valid and real to them. that being said, the treatment of Taryn specifically is really troubling and bizarre to me. 

I think it’s worth pointing out that when we say Taryn-hate seems misogynistic, that means a lot more than just “people who hate Taryn hate her because she’s a girl.” in my opinion, fandom misogyny toward her often gets couched in broader terms. some examples of what I mean by this are:

(1) Taryn does things that are bad and I don’t like that - uhhhh okay. everybody in these books does shitty things, so let’s think about why specifically the actions of Taryn (a 17-18 year old girl being manipulated by multiple men in her life) fall into the category of unredeemable for you. the reason we might point to this being misogynistic is because it’s a double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters—we’re willing to forgive Cardan his cruelty, or centuries-old Madoc for the trauma he's inflicted and his ongoing need for bloodshed, but Taryn is just a stupid, evil girl for trying to secure her place in Elfhame through the levers of power that are available to her. she can never be forgiven nor redeemed no matter how loyal she is to Jude moving forward. why is that? what sin of hers are so particularly evil to warrant this response? and we have to answer these questions in the context of Elfhame & its moral code, not in the context of our own world.

(2) I could never see myself acting in the way Taryn does and therefore I don’t like her - okay? I can never see myself acting like Madoc, or even like Vivi (don’t get me started on Vivi & the fact that she gets passes Taryn never does), but that doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for them. I understand that we experience the books through Jude’s perspective, so we’re automatically more prone to rooting for her—and to be clear, I love Jude! but fiction challenges us to experience the world through other perspectives, and it’s my opinion that Taryn acts in a way that is completely consistent and understandable with her experience of Elfhame. “I’m not like you,” she tells Jude. “I want to belong here. Defying them makes everything worse. You never asked me before you went against Prince Cardan—you didn’t care what it brought down on either of our heads.” 

while Jude’s defiance is held up as girlboss behavior (by me, too! I love a “get worse” arc), Taryn’s more traditionally feminine approach to finding her place in Elfhame is reviled (@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 has a great post on the fawn response to trauma & on passivity). more on this point below. 

(3) Taryn isn’t a “girl’s girl” - I am begging fandom to think critically about why Taryn betrays Jude & what that says not just about Elfhame, but about our world. these girls live in a world that affords them little power and agency. we meet them on the cusp of adulthood, and they’re both hyper-aware that they need to secure their place in Elfhame. Jude refers to knighthood as “earning” her place and is uninterested in marriage, but Taryn seems aware that she’s more likely to secure her place through the latter option (and also expresses the fear that Jude is going to leave her behind). it’s an oversimplification, but a useful one for the sake of this conversation, to point out that Jude chooses a more traditionally masculine approach, while Taryn chooses a more traditionally feminine one.

the tragedy is that this world—and particularly the men in their lives—pit them against one another. Locke offers Taryn the thing she wants most, requires a vow of her secrecy, and then begins flirting with Jude (and that's not even to mention him being a gancanagh!). at a point in her story where Madoc and Oriana are the only family who are still around for Taryn, Madoc capitalizes on Taryn’s ignorance (and also her awareness that she's never been the favorite daughter) & uses her to betray Jude. I almost never see these complexities brought up in conversations about Taryn, which is just gross to me, and echoes the ways that patriarchal power structures pit women against each other in the real world. 

I’ve seen people argue that while Jude’s approach is also flawed, she at least doesn’t betray Taryn. and like… kind of? she certainly doesn’t betray Taryn as directly as Taryn betrays her—but some of that just strikes me as dumb luck. consider what might’ve happened if Dain hadn’t died at the end of book one. what lengths might he have asked Jude to go to in order to prove her loyalty to him? or if we rewind even further—it’s honestly just dumb luck that someone didn’t harm or kill Taryn (Valerian, for example, could've chosen the wrong window). Jude’s antagonism of Cardan & his friends had a direct effect on Taryn’s life, and even though Taryn begged her to stop, she bullheadedly charged on. the difference is that Jude’s risky decisions ultimately work out for her, while Taryn has to face the consequences of hers not panning out the way she wanted them to. 

this isn't exhaustive, and there’s so much more I could say, but this is already so long. so in conclusion, the reason all this matters to me personally is twofold: 

at its best, fiction teaches us empathy. part of why I love tfota is because it takes characters & dynamics that are really messy & helps you, the reader, understand where everyone is coming from & why. the fact that we love Madoc is a testament to fiction’s ability to do this. so why is a teenage girl treated like the true villain of this story? what about her makes us incapable of empathy? why, in the mind of the fandom, is she not allowed forgiveness (or even just a chance at redemption) for the harm she's caused, while other characters are? I see people stanning Nicasia, who actively tortured Jude (over a boy, no less!!) ffs

fandom misogyny reflects our world. why are people eager to forgive toxic male love interests, yet hold the bar impossibly high for girls? why is there such a narrow set of choices & behaviors that we consider acceptable for female characters? Holly wrote a story about two young women carving out places for themselves in a world hostile to them, hurting each other in the process, and ultimately deciding to forgive, love, and root for one another—and fandom has taken that complex narrative and pitted them against one another, upholding one as the girlboss who can do no wrong while treating the other as scum. misogyny thrives on women treating each other like the problem, so if this is our attitude toward a fictional story where we’re afforded direct looks into characters’ thoughts, how much worse are we going to be in the real world, faced with real, imperfect women?

anyways, in conclusion: you're entitled to dislike taryn, but if you feel such vitriol toward her that you're literally making hate posts (or commenting under fanart of her!! holy shit), I invite you to interrogate where that hate actually comes from. fin.

[ravengards-rogue]

dont take any of this too seriously. just spewing my thoughts. some rdr2 / johnigail stuff. mostly talking 2 myself. a lot of spoilers lmao

i really. i really like the relationship that john and abigail share both in rdr2 and later in rdr1. and what i like about it is that it, explicitly, is not a story of true love.

don't misunderstand, i think john and abigail love each other to death and ever after. they share such a deep and solid relationship and both make mutual connections to each other over the course of the game. but what makes them compelling to me is the deep realism rooted in their romance and the way that love is depicted as choice rather than fate.

rdr2 poses this more than once through out the story, with the most obvious example being mary-linton and arthur. when presented the choice to leave the gang or go with mary, arthur chooses the gang due to various internal and external factors. but the implication remains that things might've been different had arthur learned how to choose other things. himself. his future. etc. there's examples of this with hosea and bessie (said by hosea himself "she knew what i was"), with dutch and his varying models of young women. the van der linde gang chooses the outlaw life chronically, habitually, instinctively.

abigail joins the gang as a working girl. she sleeps with most of the camp, and then with john. they're sweet on each other. and she has a boy that she believes to be johns. john is hesitant to believe that (and maybe some of that is warranted) but most of it is him being a complete jackass. the kid is born. john is presented the option of fatherhood. he, like the rest of the gang, comes to a point where he feels he must choose what is going to take priority in his life.

(and this is important - because in my mind, so much of this pressure is so self-imposed. it's inherited in the way most sons inherit from their father or like most younger brothers inherit for their older ones. it's possible no one told john to choose explicitly. not then at least.

but well, john has seen this all play out before. and loyal men choose the gang, almost always. the gang is family, was family before jack and abigail. and if john owes anyone loyalty, it's dutch who raised him as a golden boy)

john, for better or worse, chooses neither. he leaves the gang entirely, for a year which is a huge point of contention. he leaves both things behind. he doesn't choose. he doesn't want to choose. but he comes back, and presumably makes the choice made many times before him. he chooses the gang and completely shafts responsibility of fatherhood and husbandry. but there is obvious uncertainty there.

the choice john makes to leave is interesting when you consider it thematically, and you consider arthurs specific advice to john before his death - that you can't be two men at once. something that is reiterated to john in the epilogue and that he acts on in rdr1. it's also interesting when keeping in mind some hidden dialogue hosea has with john, in which john says he knows that jack is his.

to me, john understands very well whats going on around him. and that his actions are informed explicitly by that choice.

and this to me is what makes his relationship to abigail so interesting. john is no doubt a loser, a deadbeat, and a bum (he is my favorite character) - but all of this information together makes me interpret his actions (coldness towards her and jack) not as genuine resentment but an externalized projection and defensive mechanism.

johns uncertainty is not towards jack being his or even towards abigail, but a baseline questioning of the violence he's been steeped in his entire life. what was once a simple, intuitive choice to be an outlaw is called into question by the legitimate possibility of something else.

arthur has a line to john, where he says that if you don't think jack is yours - why does it bother you so much? and it's a good question indeed, why does any of it bother him so much? why does abigails nagging bother him so much? why is it that john chooses to be actively antagonistic towards her when he could choose to simply be apathetic or choose to reject or stonewall her?

a lot of it is projection. its hypocrisy on johns behalf. he unloads his questioning and beliefs about the gang unto abigail who serves as a semi-constant reminder of his own problems. abigail during the main story game doesn't ask john to choose, but john knows that he has too. that's what that whole thing leads to.

when the gang starts to fall apart and when jack gets kidnapped, john immediately changes his tune. he's in clear disarray. the seeds of doubt planted in his head about dutch during blackwater only get increasingly extreme and as the game goes on into guarma and johns prison arc. he starts more clearly distinguishing where his loyalty will lie as the game closes, john is finally encouraged to make the cemented choice of jack and abi and not gang life (not all at once and something he will continue to struggle with) but he makes it all the same.

and then all of that intersects with abigail. and this to me is where the basis their relationship stems from because it's largely abigails influence, personality, and persistence that allows john not to make the same mistakes. abigail doesn't ask john for love, but she refuses to yield to him when it comes to jack. i know so many people see abigails nagging as nagging, or clinginess - but in my mind, it's simply her not letting john get away with being wishy-washy. abigail makes herself known and doesn't relent even when john continuously acts like a massive dick. she's not a pushover about it though either.

abigail loves john and probably understands him better than people give her credit for. especially with her calling him silly so often (a WHOLE different meta post) it's out of genuine love for john and in many cases, a genuine concern for john as a person that she acts the way she does. she gets on his case because she doesn't really want to give up on him, even though she probably very well could.

and she'd definitely be more at peace if she did lmao.

at a human level, abigails constancy and her both 1. not taking johns shit when he acts like a dick and 2. still wanting more and whats best for him is probably one of the base reasons john has full strength to make it out. and john knows that. abigail chooses john. she wants to choose john. she believes in him and so much of that contributes to the fact john doesn't end up somewhere much worse when the main story ends.

but again its not easy. for either of them. and it's not something that works until john gets his shit together. their relationship doesn't mend overnight, either. in the epilogue of the game, you see them face the same struggles they did through the main story. but like i said, abigail is no pushover. when john keeps choosing outlaw life, abigail leaves because she feels there's no helping him and john has to prove himself to her once more. he has to choose them.

(a lot of people critique abigail for being unfair to john and i understand that - but i think its mostly fear. john was in that life for years, and to abigails there's no telling if that siren song will take over and uproot her life again or not. i do think many times john took up the gun in the epilogue were completely fair, but i dont think abigails reaction is unwarranted.)

but again. again. the core of their love story is about choice. both john and abigail make the choice to choose their family and their love is founded on learning to choose each other. abigail straightens john out, and his character in rdr1 is so much more mellow than he is in rdr2. his loyalty to abigail is fierce and consistent, and john knows he owes a lot to her and never loses sight of that in the years they spend peacefully together.

he likes that abigail gives him shit and a hard time because he knows he deserves it and that it was one of the only things stabilizing him during some of the most tumultuous and difficult times of their life together.

they have such deep and genuine love for each other, built entirely in trying to believe and trust in one another and hold onto love in an era where everything was constantly at stake. it's not fairytale romance, but tried and true connection and choice. i love you because i chose you and i'd keep choosing you. they are so awkward with each other for so long because of the nature of their relationship to each other and that truly endears them to me all the more.

they just. they are so in love. but its not a fairy tale. and its not a case of john getting the girl because he's the hero or whatever. john loves her so much and she loves him and it all took a while and none of it was perfect. but it was real. so so so real between them. ack.

[chdarling]

Hii i love love your works they are truly inspiring! I had a few questions if you don’t mind sharing a bit :)

The way your characters „speak“ and what words they use seems so real and i always wondered how you pinpoint their „personalities“? I love you characterization of Lily especially, she always came across like a real person.

Another question i had how you think of these plots and subplots. Do you have a strategy or any inspiration?

Hi! Thank you so much!

Hmmmm. This is always a hard question for me to answer because most of the time it’s just “idk my brain just did the thing and now I have this imaginary person talking at me” lol.

But there are definitely strategies and techniques I’ve employed over the years to figure out voice and (hopefully) get it right. A big one is to give your characters a defining linguistic trait or habit. For Sirius, it’s cursing. None of the other characters curse as much as Sirius, and on the whole I try to use it somewhat sparingly with other characters so it’s more impactful when they do. Remus curses near the full moon when he’s exhausted and annoyed. James curses in serious scenarios, when he’s upset or scared or whatever. But Sirius curses fluently, happily, and with gusto haha.

For James, he’s a bit more lighthearted/frivolous in his language choices. Lots of play on words and always ending things sort of trailing off with “and all that.”

Lily I genuinely don’t have a good answer, I’m sure I did character work on her at some point but these days she just exists in my head as a fully-formed person so I have no idea how to tease that apart 🙈

Ummmm I’m drawing a blank on the others but i know they have specific tells, I’m just sleepy. 😂

Plots and subplots are I think just the result of my brain constantly playing a game of “yes and” with itself. (By which I am referring to the improv technique and not the Ariana grande song lmao.) Pretty much the entire plot of TLE was born from me having a handful of completely unrelated scenes/headcanons that had lived in my head since my teen years, then putting those random scenes in a timeline and trying to make sense of how one could lead to the other etc. And just like…allowing myself to go a little crazy and be like “ok I want a scene where Lily dresses in a Muggle mini-dress in front of James, why would this happen” and then extrapolating from there. Ok so the scene in which she’s wearing a mini-dress needs to be at least somewhat scandalous to warrant the kind of attention I want it to get from James and others? Why is it scandalous? Maybe it’s scandalous because wizards are super conservative. Ok if wizards are super conservative what does that means in terms of how they view Muggles, specifically Muggle girls? It means they’re constantly slut-shaming them. If they’re constantly slut-shaming Muggle girls, how does that show up in Lily’s plot? She gets accused of being a boyfriend stealer. Etc etc etc. So much of the plot so far has been me working backwards from ideas that won’t happen for many thousands of words yet to come 😂😂😂

I guess my biggest tip is just to make time to be very bored and let your brain roam free. Walking is great for this 😂

[adracat]

GWitch ep 19 thoughts

Every episode is a kick in the teeth with candy boots. A sweet misery you've known like no other. This episode was no different and I relished today's destruction as Mio and Prospera take center stage

That's a loaded statement if I've ever seen one. Really enjoyed this brief intro segment. We get Guel's thoughts on Kenanji; uninspired and suspicious, which are a vast change from his once admiration of the man. Guel also seems surprisingly chill about returning to Earth, but cryptically comments he wants to check the situation there and aid in negotiations. I like how Mio and him have fallen into this friendly rapport after everything. We'd like to see him apologize formally ofc, but it's not necessary for Mio. She's focused on greater concerns than the petty school days of Asticassia

Meanwhile, Suletta is a wreck. She's completely fallen apart after her mother and sister dumped her in space like hot garbo. She can't even plaster on a smile and lie to herself any longer. Earth House just thinks she's upset about the break up, so she isn't confiding in anyone at all. Suletta.exe has stopped working :(

Hilariously, Counselor Secilia has decided to make Martin her servant after listening to his confessional. It's great they make a distinct parallel to Miorine here, with Martin explaining he thought the best way to protect Earth House was to give up Nika. The show is filled with instances of people taking away another person's agency in the misguided belief they're doing 'what's best'. So good!

Real Elan finally gets more dialogue and he makes an excellent point, for once. The quickest and dirtiest way into Benerit's graces would be to forcefully suppress the earthian protests. A gundam, let alone one like Aerial, is a powerful statement of supremacy after all. Shaddiq is convinced Miorine would never allow it, and he's partly right. She wouldn't if she was the one truly calling the shots.

Feng is so cool for a spook. She successfully preys upon Belmeria's cowardice and gains her begrudging compliance. Really enjoyed the dynamic here at this little tea party. It was almost like a date 😳 Love me two older women with some tension. Is this the newest gwitch ship to take flight?

I love how Mio recognized these are peaceful protesters immediately. It's another instance of her demonstrating empathy on a greater level than she once did. Her initial ignorant comments about Earthians in cour 1 seem a distant memory, and much of it has to do with her exposure to Earth House. If not for them and Suletta, her pov would be just as narrow as every other spacian's.

And it's off to a terrible start lmao. I think Mio expected an uphill battle but those are some steep demands. A worldwide ban on spacians is unfeasible but absolutely warranted considering everything the spacians have done. Mio doesn't quite know how to counter, and it's so funny Guel left her here without help after previously saying he doesn't trust her diplomacy skills. I doubt he'd be much help tbh, but I guess he trusts her more than he said? Which is, uh, somewhat appreciated? It's the thought that counts.

Sad widow moment. Norea grieving Sophie's death and expressing her fear of death explicitly has been a long time coming. 5lan bearing witness as the floodgates open and she reveals they share this core dread? God this hit so good. You can't help but feel for these kids. Nika continues to watch on in bafflement as the drama unfolds. When is she gonna leave this level of purgatory?? Only Okouchi knows...

OMG, I AM SLAIN. Defeated. This sad husk of a girlboss misses her (ex) wife so much. Normal people would just have a wallet photo or a locket, but she's reduced to watching this goofy ass promo wistfully. I would find it hilarious if it wasn't so sad. It does give her the strength to continue negotiations so that's neat

More importantly, it reminds her of GUND's ideals and the people who've banded together because of that dream; Earth House. She cleverly points out that fulfilling their demands would also mean removing earthians from space, but she won't because they're her partners at GUND-ARM. Her showing them the medical achievements they've already made together was smart and tips the scales in her favor

I keep saying I love Mio but I really do. She's inspired to grasp the presidency for her own goals, rather than just as a tool for Prospera. She found a path of peace in spite of everything against her. It's bittersweet to know, in a kinder world, this would be the end of her struggles. But Prospera won't be satisfied with peace.

This shot was gold. Suletta raiding the fridge like an unwashed raccoon is perfect on so many levels. We finally get unbound Suletta too. Ugh she looks so good 😭

LOOK AT HER!! Babygirl. She looks like such a sad scruffy mutt here. I love it 🥹 Adored Earth House supporting her in her hour of need and giving her a boost with goat milk too. Really cements the rebirth imagery they had in the last episode.

Martin decides to slink home too and reveals everything going on with Nika. This bit from Lilique says it all. There are times when you are left with only so many options. While you may not choose the objectively best path, you can only pick what YOU feel is best. Miorine, Martin, Aerial. Even Delling and Prospera (Perhaps DoF and Shaddiq as well) It fits all the way across the cast.

I didn't expect to get the Shaddiq real name drop from this shakedown, but I'll take it. Kenanji may be a cop with blood on his hands, but he's a keen one. We learned that 'Prince' is a longstanding nickname and it implicates Shaddiq wholly in the terrorist attacks. 'Whoopsie, all my nefarious plans undone by one kid's rambling!'

(I also think the implication was Shaddiq or Jeru Ogul rather, is the 'heir apparent' to Ochs Earth virtue of his dead family. Not entirely certain tbh)

Looks like Guel will be Asticassia bound next episode along with Kenanji. No idea why Kenanji had to tag along but I guess Mio has enough of an escort. Let's hope this detour leads to Suletta using the Schwarzette! Fingers crossed

You saw it here, everybody. Prospera shot first! I'll admit I didn't fully expect her to go this route but it makes sense. I anticipated her gaining Mio support somehow, but she just cut the BS and said let's do this dirty. Controlling Earthian artillery to mask her intentions and provide an excuse is devious and brilliant

Destroying DoF's secret stache of gundams even more so. She really cut Shaddiq's plan for a cold war at the knees and Guel/Kenanji are on track to expose his duplicity entirely. He'll be lucky to not be jailed let alone president of anything. It's amazing that everything works out for Prospera no matter how many risks she takes or gambles made. Lady Luck must love her nonsense as much as the audience

Cut back to Bel and Feng, their date did not end as well as I hoped. While Bel spilled some details about Quiet Zero, Prospera's second hunts her down and interrupts this powow. Can't risk QZ leaking to the corpo spooks after all. We did learn that SAL is not as unified or well intentioned as we might have thought. Their high council was revealed to be backing Ochs Earth of all corps. Feng seemed to be an outlier in yet another shady corpo-controlled faction. I'll miss her, but maybe she somehow escaped this dire situation? I won't hold my breath. RIP Feng, you were a real one!

Elan Prime seems so smug to be right, even if it means their horse in this race has some real competition. He really is a little shit just like 5lan. That MS shot though. Damn evocative. War journalists eat your heart out. It's visual reference too, I believe?

This is the funniest thing he could've said. Shaddiq is malding just like a pathetic incel. Remember when everyone thought he pulled mad game because he's surrounded by women? But the sad reality is he's the most maidenless person in the solar system. The best outcome tbh.

Beyond the laughs, this line speaks so much about how he views Miorine. He views her little better than a prize only he's deserving of; a 'pure' princess to match his crusading prince. He repeatedly disregards her agency, seen in episode 9 when he acts like Suletta controls Mio and here when he blames Guel for what's happening on Earth. He's such a salty little worm.

Finally, we're left with Suletta and Earth House as they react to the chaos. Suletta recognizes instantly Miorine's innocence and her mother's culpability. This was why Aerial sent her away. This was what everyone is trying to shield her from. It was a moment of clarity I hadn't expected, but a very welcome one. Hopefully, this means she'll be spurred into action now that Mio is in very real danger. Schwarzette time? We can dream~

That next episode is incredibly ominous though. End of Hope? Considering they have that promo where GUND-ARM/earth house are the ray of hope... yikes. Let's hope I'm just reading into things and it's not that grim

Edit* additional musings:

A segment was deleted somehow so here it is

Miorine... You know, I've seen people having a bit of schadenfreude at her expense. 'she's so stupid, ofc this happened!' - that flavor of criticism. My counter to this is what could she have realistically done? She was strong-armed into this agreement and manipulated onto Earth. She dared to imagine a peaceful solution based on ideals she slowly grew to believe wholeheartedly. This isn't her fault, much as she thinks otherwise. I can see her willfully remaining on earth to try and correct this atrocity. Girl needs a big hug from her wife ;-;

[ashwii]

How long do you typically spend on a drawing?

Of the ones you've posted, which took the longest? Which was the quickest?

Ohhh, that's a good question. I suppose it really depends on the drawing :00

Honestly, I dont spend anywhere near as long on drawings as i did a year a two ago (which comes with pros and cons — i feel like i haven't really made a "mona lisa" in forever that i can be super proud of, but on the other hand i'm overall just quicker at getting paintings done now)

[Going from left to right♡]

The first one (done a little over a year ago) I remember taking me a good couple of weeks to complete. HOURS upon hours were spent on that water trying to make it look perfect, and tbh I'm not super into the water looks anymore anyway XD. Lots of things i dont really like about the piece anymore, but i haven't really made anything since that I think is a suitable replacement for a pfp haha

Second guy (6 months after the first one) i think took me a couple days? Spent an evening doing the sketch and line art, and I think I spent the next evening doing the coloring and painting. I dont think I like the colors as much as the first one, but i dont think I dislike them enough to warrant multiple weeks worth of working on a drawing, lmao

And then the third boy, the one i posted a few hours ago. I think i spent a lil less than an hour on him?? That one's just a doodle — no background or real composition in mind like the other two drawings, just wanted to scribble the boy, hehe. Like I said, it depends on the drawing!!

[benrybenrybenry-chr]

Could you explain how bbc ruined john? I grew up with that sherlock

yeah sure!

basically, to put it simplest, BBC's John Watson is not anything like John Watson as a character. As a standalone character I think I wouldn't have cared nearly as much? I mean I still personally wouldn't like him cuz he was kind of a piece of shit at times but I can still find the appeal in that. no the main issue I face is that he just acts nothing like Watson and tbh like- a lot of his actions even go against Watson's ideals??

first of all his relationship with Holmes (im gonna be using their last names here because calling them by their first names feels wrong to me) is just- weirdly negative? I don't know, him constantly making Holmes out to be a total asshole and a villain in his life is SO out of character. (though to be honest it's warranted given how out of character Holmes is in that show too, he's a total asshole for no good reason)

I think honestly the best example of this change with Watson's personality and how drastic it is, is The Empty Hearse/The Empty House

in The Empty Hearse, John's immediate reaction is to PHYSICALLY HARM Sherlock

in The Empty House, Watson's immediate reaction is (and I'm not even kidding) to faint, be woken up, and be incredibly starstruck and just happy that his best friend is alive

(I don't have a clip of BBC Sherlock but I do have one of Granada Holmes, which is the most accurate to ACD/book canon)

this also very much highlights the difference between BBC Sherlock and ACD Holmes, but that's besides the point

I'd also like to mention something that really especially annoyed me and that's that he?? is literally useless in that show???? Watson in the books is really intelligent and helps Holmes in numerous cases as well as gives his input (WHICH HOLMES TAKES TO HEART AND DOESNT JUST COMPLETELY IGNORE, BTW 🙄🙄 that always ticked me off with BBC) and does more than just get kidnapped a couple times and take notes.

ALSO ACD WATSON WOULD NEVER CHEAT ON HIS WIFE!!! OR BLAME HOLMES FOR MARY'S DEATH!!! NEVER!! would absolutely never happen. (though to be fair, ACD's equivalent of Mary's death happened in the 3 year gap between The Final Problem and The Empty House, so, yk)

if they met BBC Watson would not leave that room without broken bones lmao

idunnoidunno its a lot of "WATSON WOULD NEVER DO THAT" moments and gut feelings, it's difficult to describe properly, I found it very difficult to root for him when I felt like he was an un-likeable protagonist idkidk

(additionally they removed his fucking mustache and that is their worst offense /hj)

[nalyra-dreaming]

The murder scene was always so weird to me, honestly. I was basically assuming they'd reveal Claudia was the one who did it eventually, idek what other change would be "big" enough to warrant revisiting it at any length. Claudia leaving the room randomly never felt authentic, and the (book accurate) last words she wrote down of Lestat's were different from the ones Louis seemed to remember him saying. I liked Lestat's lil' speech to Louis at the end, but I'm not sure if I believed it lmao. Also, I know Louis was in a bit of a daze at the time, but it was weird that he was calm and resigned and wholly on board with the murder one minute and screaming his head off over Lestat's corpse the next, and shoving Claudia around to save Lestat's life. But whatever the case, Loumand are clearly committed to their version of the scene for whatever reason, it'll take a lot of digging to get to the truth. I'll be frustrated if they leave it completely open-ended though.

We‘ll see.

But you are right, we were already were given hints that it didn’t happen as told. Things do not fit together.

I‘m not so sure if “Loumand“ is a united front there … I think the Louis in Dubai is inching ever closer to blow-up.

The Louis in the past will likely not think a lot. People screaming, the lights, the shock… and the shock of seeing Lestat.

We know they’ll do some kind of presentation to show the trial… and I think that is precisely when things will be doubted. Break apart maybe. We‘ll see.

But there are so many hints already… *shrugs*

[stevie-petey]

How do you think pre-season one bug and Steve would react to season three bug and Steve's relationship? Comparing how bug and Jon's relationship is and how Steve and Nancy are, and then seeing bug and Steve

i yapped so heres a read more LMAO

bug would be completely shocked that jon had been in love with her the entire time. she never considered that he could. when she realizes it, its too late. and it will always haunt her. she would be even more shocked that steve lets her in. she had never necessarily watched him how he watched her, but she saw through him and his king steve persona. she always knew steve was more than a jock and heartbreaker, she saw kindness in him from the start, but he wasnt comfortable or ready to share it with others.

steve would be in disbelief that bug had believed in him, that she had stayed. for years he watched her from afar, assuming he would never be good enough to warrant the kindness she offers to everyone. hes an asshole, hes mean, he doesnt care about hurting peoples feelings. bug was untouchable in his eyes. he never thought she would see a good in him, or pay him any attention whatsoever. but nancy wheeler is different, shes harder, has an edge to her that he cant help but find fascinating. steve would be heartbroken to know she never loved him in the end. proving that he isnt worthy of the love and tenderness he knows bug offers. nancy confirms this fear.

jon would be terrified to know that he doesnt end up with bug. that he loses her. he wouldnt understand how he ends up with nancy. hes been in love with bug since he was 12, how could nancy wheeler ever get in between that ? he would be ashamed that its the hardness in nancy that he falls for. how shes different from bugs softness. nancy takes action. she keeps him on his toes and jon cant get enough of it. he also would be confused seeing bug with steve. hes a jerk. his friends have taunted jon for years. bug wouldnt ever fall for someone who allows such cruelness. he wouldnt understand it.

nancy would be frustrated that she couldnt love steve in the end. hes everything she could want. hes attractive and popular and rich and kind. hes kind to her. she would be baffled that jonathan byers catches her attention instead. that he challenges her. keeps up with her. fights back, doesnt treat her like an object. its everything she hadnt known she wanted.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

How would Delta and Epic handle or help with Color's misophonia?

Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if the two don’t know about his misophonia for awhile simply because Color just instinctively leaves an area or a room if he hears a noise or sound that sets of either anxiety or rage—such as chewing sounds, tapping sounds, certain ways of breathing or even talking probably.

Especially if Color himself isn’t aware that there’s a word for why he feels and reacts that way to “small” things—he probably just thinks he’s an asshole or something.

But they’re smart guys, they probably figure it out eventually for him—and start accommodating for him. First up would some form of air buds or noise canceling headphones for him—his skull is cracked up, so it’s probably be very hard to find a suitable one. If they can’t find any, I can see Delta learning how to make and design a better more fitting set for Color (after finding a decent pair that can be used temporarily.)

Delta would probably try to lower the volume of his voice around Color, understanding that his friend’s hearing is more sensitive (perhaps Delta is sensory seeking? 🤔)

and epic would try to keep the memeing explosions to the minimum—although not completely, considering that one comic where Epic, Color, and Cross play fought with explosive doggos. (Color even covered his “ears” lmao.)

But more than that, if something seems to be bothering Color they’d probably try to figure out what it is or just ask if something is bothering him—try to coax him into telling them what’s the matter. (Especially if Color used to be ridiculed for things like this in the past and has just learned to either leave or sit and suffer and deal with it.)

If Color manages to find the nerve to tell them, and ask them if they can please stop whatever they were doing, they’d definitely stop and respect Color’s wishes to the best of their abilities. I’d imagine that Color would probably feel guilty or like he’s being rude for asking though, so for awhile he either just won’t or will just leave the area.

Wouldn’t be surprised if after gaining the Kindness soul, Color actually has a harder time being frustrated with others (warranted or not, but the point is the souls could possibly deny him the right to feel and express his emotions if they’re deemed to “rude” or “mad” or “impatient”), so he often just has to physically leave the situation. (Thankfully not only does Color fight to still express himself, but i think Justice and Bravery would definitely help him express his anger and more “unkind” emotions.)

And of course, there’s also other options like white noise apps or putting on music that Color likes, if he can handle any more added noises—especially if it’s songs that he loves so much he starts stimming.

[bonefall]

Just curious, is Russetfur still Raggedstar’s half sister in this universe or are they completely unrelated now? Also do you have anything on Boulder? He was always one of my favorite background cats

If they are half-sibs, it's not relevant! They won't know or care.

Chelford cats are matriarchal. Sires don't inherently play a role in the lives of their children, and seeking that sort of company is something a parent keeps discreet. Uncles and brothers fill the role of "father" in raising the kittens, with cats tracking their lineages through mothers

So Russet has no idea who her father is and doesn't care. Ngl, I also just... don't care about Hal lmaooo

(Imagine writing a super edition about one of your most popular characters, with a story that people have been begging to hear in detail for years, and then dedicating the entire opening to her shitty husband's daddy issues. Couldn't be me.)

Instead, Russetfur is related to the leader of BloodClan at that time. Brick is her sister. I might make Hal her uncle or older brother.

The conflict that occurs between BloodClan and ShadowClan at this time will cause the leader to be killed suddenly, triggering the Frenzy, the period of time during which a new leader is chosen. Pinestar is already having issues over in ThunderClan, and starts seriously thinking about leaving to go help out.

(Though it's certainly not his last straw.)

In any case... if Russetfur and her buddy Boulder had been having second thoughts about Clan life, getting the BloodClan Leader killed and burned the hell out of THAT bridge.

Anyway.

Russetfur and Boulder are in danger during TigerClan. Serious danger. They were loyal to Brokenstar and were safe as long as they were good warriors, but Tigerstar had his eye on them.

So, I feel they may have supported Deerfoot's Rebels, but deniably. I want Blackstar picking Russetfur to be heavily based on her participation, but I also need her to stay safe.

(Might end up having her escape and take refuge with Mistyfoot...)

Boulder is a lot more passive. I like him a LOT and want to expand his role a bit, just because... I Like Him. Literally just blorbo lmao. It's funny how the fandom consensus is just, "this guy's cool!"

I go back and forth on when Boulder's kids are born, and who they are. But he WILL be having kids

I'm set on Whitethroat being one of them, and leaning towards Wetfoot being another.

If Wetfoot is one of Boulder's kids, Firestar knows Boulder as a concerned dad. Wetfoot is going to get a bigger role as a friend in ShadowClan and Deerfoot Rebel.

In my head, Boulder likes the community of Clan life more than the violence, but because he's huge and served under tyrannical leaders he gets forced into battles he doesn't enjoy.

He massively regrets following Russetfur, honestly. He doesn't want to leave and go rebuild his reputation in BloodClan... but he also wishes he never came here.

In my heart, TPB is like the WORST period in this poor guy's life. Background character going through an absolute WRINGER

He's anxious for himself, anxious for his friends, anxious for his kids. Loses Whitethroat. Might lose Wetfoot to the Plague. Serves under TigerClan, terrified that if he isn't a perfect warrior he will get killed.

(And he's right. His fear is warranted. If Russetfur does something, like if I go with her being a refugee in ThunderClan, HE is going to get punished.)

And, of course, he is eventually used by Tigerstar to open up talks with BloodClan.

Even though he has Sasha, Nightwhisper, and Jaggedtooth to serve the same purpose... Tigerstar chooses Boulder.

He doesn't trust Jaggedtooth after he "fails" to contain the prisoners that escape to ThunderClan. He "proved" his loyalty by following his order to execute Deerfoot, but Jaggedtooth is now at the bottom of the pecking order.

Sasha is being reduced to a mate Tigerstar can control, even though she served as one of his mercenaries. He doesn't give her ANY agency.

Nightwhisper is a stupid tool, in Tigerstar's eyes. He does not respect his intelligence, just his eagerness.

So Boulder is chosen. He's smart enough to translate properly, fearful enough to do what Tigerstar says, has lived long enough as a Clan cat... and if he HAS any remaining kids, there is the implicit threat that if Boulder tries something funny, his child is who will pay for it.

After TigerClan ends, I feel like Boulder is desperate to retire early, but also feels like he can't ask for it. He's only survived this long because of his usefulness. It would be hard to trust that he can just... not serve, anymore.

If I can scrounge up more kits for ShadowClan (IT'S SO SMALL), I also would like him to end up having another litter mid-Po3.

Hopefully one of the kids of his first survived, so I can play around with the harrowing dynamic of, "Our dad is so much happier while raising you... I envy my younger sibling's childhood."

And on a final note, Boulder is probably going to get a Warrior Name during TPB. It doesn't really make sense that he just keeps his old one, unfortunately, when Clan Culture is at its most xenophobic and he's in active danger. He'll get Boulder back as a request between TPB and TNP.