#i'm floored by this week's episode

[miloucomehome]

VIVANT EPISODE 5

WHAT THE HACYUASL HELL (AGAIN)

(so good!!!)

First, first!!

The moment where Doram and Nozaki try to get Nogi's Face ID at the restaurant was adorably funny.

Also: The Nozaki-Doram-Genghis teamup later? Love it.

Onto the next stuff in this episode (there's so much. I'm only just touching upon some things)

Nozaki being written and treated as a very competent state agent makes me happy. He's not hyper-competent, he has "fun", he's not hyper-serious all the time (that shit-eating-"You won't believe the plan I've cooked up heheheheh"-grin he has is golden--he's smart. He'll mess with people if he needs to and shares only the necessary info he has with those he trusts (at the moment). He also revels in messing with people haha. Plus he uses his jovial nature to get on others' good side, but he's sincere when he means it. I'm positive that prior to all this he truly has taken an interest in Nogi and is going to treat him the same way, but with more subtly poking to figure out what's going on

I love Nozaki (and I truly believe that in light of the reveal this week, he found Nogi endearing, was maybe falling for him or just wanting him to be ok idk, and now has to suspect him and truly learn who he is) but now I'm genuinely worried we will lose someone in the main cast by the finale.

(I have become a Nozaki oshi.)

A theory that had been floated about on twitter by multiple viewers in the VIVANT theories tag actually came to be. Multiple people pointed out that when Nogi was waiting outside the Balka International Bank, he was holding what looked like Ali's phone and something else. At first some wondered if it was a portable charger, but were curious when the switch happened. That was all revealed this week and I can't believe how much theorists were on the point trying to figure out what happened.

Nozaki's true past being discovered was more than I expected though. Amnesia, being sucked into the grim world of human trafficking...is this how Nogi F (or B through E) was born?

Finally: I can't tell if Sam was bad or if the CIA was trying to get Ali as an intelligence asset, BUT NOOOO SAM!!!!! NOGI F HOW THE HELL COULD YOU?! I LIKED OUR LUPIN IIIrd FANBOY CIA AGENT.

(that said, this means he met Sam at the Rongaly Military School then?!)

Jamine being some sort of "miracle child"?! Is Sakurai, Nogi's handler? Who's the head of BEPPAN?!

Now we find out that the character with Nino is Nogi's dad?! That he survived?! Nino is some kind of adopted son?! Or did his wife survive and they had another child?! Ali said he didn't meet her, but had seen the photos...but...still

The amount of silent screaming I was doing during the "execution" scene was obscene. I don't think I could've handled another episode 4 type ending. (That said, I think both Nogi F and Kurosue were willing to go all the way and cut the wires if Ali hadn't cooperated)

And I can't be the only one who is having a hard time telling Nogi A from Nogi F. I feel during the "executions", the apology was delivered by Nogi A. I think that in intense moments like the "executions" they both flip between each other, or even that the true Nogi is the one present. Not one or the other.

Nozaki slowly closing in on the TENT-BEPPAN stuff is wonderful to watch. The fact that Nogi Suguru was an officer with the National Police (and not the Prefectural Police) was surprising. Why did he quit? Why go to Balka? Nozaki being with a federal agency will easily be able to access this information now. What he does with the info he does learn will be interesting because at the moment, with the information viewers have from episode 5, it's that Nogi's father left the NPA(?), went to Balka with his wife and son, something happened, his son was kidnapped and trafficked, he changed his name and somehow he created a terrorist group based in Central Asia using his family's crest as its own symbol? I'm curious how the NPA officer-to-mystery-organization-leader thing happened.

(help this wink after he says "We're Public Security.". helppp!!)

Masato Sakai is a wonderfully talented actor. Episode 5 was an absolute treat of his talents. (Can he get more menacing roles in the future???)

I'm also noticing NogI F's actions and interrogation methods are reminding of an older Masato Sakai drama from 2010 where he led a "double life" (it's nothing like this level) called JOKER: Yurusarezaru Sousakan. In it, by day he's a law-abiding officer of the law and at night he's a bit of a vigilante ala "You have failed this city". There's more to it, but that's all I remember. I couldn't help but feel that as a much more mature actor, Sakai dipped into that a bit.

Speaking of Nogi F, while I understand that what we know of BEPPAN's mission is apparently for the sake of saving the country from a potential attack, it's currently at the "Cool motive, still murder" stage and deeply morally grey. I'd like to know how he came to be paired with Kurosue and if he knows about Nogi F.

Which, from what the lady at the orphanage mentioned, it sounds like Nogi F (or B, C, D or E) have been around since he was a small child....

Anyway. I'm watching Episode 6 after dinner or shortly. Idk. T_T)

[schrutexbucks]

just some of my favorite tweets about tonight's (absolutely perfect, truly work of art) episode of interview with the vampire 1/xx

bonus crossover of what we do in the shadows

[a-loose-collection-of-ants]

Happy pride month, holy shit

[imwritesometimes]

I've decided I'm killing my depression today and instead I am

[lyrasjordan]

.

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

[kaitousassistant143]

The way the last 4 episodes of SAFT put me through the 5 stages of grief in world record timing oh my sweet Lord I am not fine

[pynkfairyheart]

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” 

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain. 

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently. 

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip. 

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries. 

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb. 

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend. 

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed. 

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed. 

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature. 

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.” 

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears. 

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head. 

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking. 

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls. 

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second. 

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss. 

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"

[ellecdc]

Hii! I love your work SO MUCH but i'm not really sure if you're taking requests. Yet i'm here asking if you'd be comfortable to write a marauders or wolf star or any of the ships with reader who has epilepsy? and how they comfort reader after a seizure? i've always wondered what they'd do after my episodes. Feel free to delete this one if jts not your thing and have a great week ahead!!!

thanks for your request, sweetheart! do forgive me if there are any inaccuracies in my depiction of epilepsy as I'm not super well-versed in the subject other than what to do in a first-aid setting! google don't fail me now 😩

poly!maraudres x gn!reader who has epilepsy

CW: depiction of a seizure, anxiety, loss of consciousness, hurt/comfort, Sirius' cooking

You could hear voices murmuring around you - perhaps stationed somewhere above you - though you weren’t currently confident in your spatial awareness. You couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but you could tell that they were nice; that the voices were lovely.

Or perhaps there wasn’t any voices at all, perhaps it was just a presence; perhaps it was just a lovely presence. Either way, you were sure you felt grateful for it. 

“Easy dove, there you are.” You heard whispered as a breath was forcefully exhaled from your lungs. “There you are, you’re alright sweetheart. You can stop the timer, Pads.” 

You hadn’t realised you had started crying until someone was shushing you and wiping tears away from your cheeks. 

“Remus’ll be right back, angel; he just went to get you some water.” A voice explained from above you; James, it was James’ voice. 

It was James’ voice and you were on the floor; how had you ended up on the floor?

You were having dinner; Sirius had made dinner for you all - roast chicken and potatoes. It was supposed to be roast chicken, potatoes, and broccolini, but he had burnt the broccolini. 

It had been a lovely meal until it wasn’t; it had been a lovely meal until your mouth started to taste like metal. 

“You feeling alright, sweets?” Sirius had asked when you abruptly stopped talking and set your fork down beside your plate.

You were upset - and perhaps a little scared, though this certainly wasn’t anything new - and you hadn’t been ready to admit what you thought was about to happen; not right then, not aloud. 

You simply shook your head no. 

“Is it Pads’ cooking? Because we can order take away.” James had offered in jest, only cluing in that something was wrong when Remus gently nudged James’ elbow with his knuckles.

“Seizure?” Remus asked simply.

You squeezed your eyes shut - in embarrassment or fear, you weren’t entirely sure - and nodded your head yes.

It was like a switch was flipped and they all fell into business mode.

“I’ll go move the coffee table.” Sirius proclaimed as he hurried from the table towards the living room and James was at your side to help you up.

“I’m sorry.” You gritted out miserably, earning you a sad sigh from James who was all but carrying you into the next room.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

And you could only trust that this was true as your consciousness began to fade just as your body was lowered onto the carpeted floor. 

It had been a seizure, you had a seizure. 

“Hey dovey.” You heard above you; a slight breeze prickling your skin alerting you to the fact that Remus had just returned.

A spike of worry surged through your core as you let out a few quick breaths. “Rem.” You sobbed.

The sound of something being set down on the coffee table, James shifting away from you to make room for Remus, and two strong hands cupping each side of your face.

“I’m right here, love. Can you open your eyes for me?” He murmured softly, rubbing at your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

A few quick puffs of hair left your lips again, but you were distracted from your panic as you felt gentle fingers press into your calves. 

“You’re alright, we’ve got you. Open your eyes, dovey.” 

You tried to take in a deep breath as you relented; opening your eyes to have your vision swimming with the sad smile of Remus. “There you are; you’re alright.” He promised you. 

“Anything sore?” Sirius asked uncharacteristically quietly for your arguably most boisterous boyfriend as he continued tracing soothing circles on your Achilles tendon. 

“I don- I don’t think so.” You whispered through a hiccup.

You heard James whimper in sympathy as his hand appeared on Sirius’ shoulder. 

“D’you think you can manage a shower or bath?” Remus asked then, encouraging your eyes back to his as he seemed to survey your face. 

You considered the welcoming warmth of a bath or shower, but your stomach seemed to roll at the thought of doing anything other than laying down for the next foreseeable future.

Your face seemed to give away your decision as Remus sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Cuddles it is then, hm?” 

James was suddenly behind you pressing an upside down kiss to your forehead before he was encouraging your shoulders upwards into a seated position.

“Water,” Remus started as he placed the glass into your hand. “And paracetamol.” 

You took the tablet (as a preemptive solution for a potential headache) and drank the glass of water dutifully earning you two more forehead kisses by Remus and James and a squeeze of your foot by Sirius before James was helping you up and ushering you to the bedroom. 

Time seemed to move oddly as someone helped you change into a pair of pyjamas and ease you under the covers of the bed.

“Jamie and I will clean up, m’love; you cooked.” Remus murmured quietly to Sirius who seemed painfully uncomfortable as his eyes darted nervously between you and Remus.

“I think it should be you who stays, Rem.”

James sighed as he rested his hand on the juncture of Sirius’ neck and rubbed at the column of his throat with his thumb. “You know Y/N gets anxious after a seizure, Pads; just like Moony is always the first name you call out after a nightmare, yeah?”

“Siri.” You whimpered; your voice sounding particularly pathetic even to your own ears.

The three boys seemed surprised by your voice, clearly under the impression you’d fallen asleep during their quiet deliberation.

“Jamie and I will clean, Sirius. You’re in charge of snuggle duty.” Remus repeated. And while some apprehension was still obvious in his face, he seemed to concede to your grabby hand and Remus’ imploring gaze.

The two boys left the room as Sirius carefully slid in under the covers beside you.

Out of all of your boyfriends, Sirius was often left the most upset by your episodes; when he felt strong emotions (such as fear or worry), he tended to shut down.

“I ruined dinner.” You pouted as Sirius pulled you into his chest.

He let out a teasing scoff with only half the amount of humour he usually carried. “I ruined dinner by offering to cook, sweetness.” 

“You guys didn’t even get to finish eating.” You carried on, tears painfully obvious in your voice which made even more tears well up in your eyes simply in embarrassment for crying.

“No, no baby; none of that now, yeah? I was full, Jamie was ready to order pizza, and I’m pretty sure Remus was feeding the chicken to the cat anyway.” He promised, stamping a kiss to your head and pulling you in closer to his side. “You never ruin anything, ever. You make everything better simply by being there, okay?”

“I don’t mean to scare you.” You whispered, feeling painfully vulnerable and simultaneously wholly safe in Sirius’ arms. 

“You don’t scare me. You don’t scare me; I am scared because I feel useless. I hate not knowing what to do for you baby.” He whispered back. 

You hummed as if in thought for a few as you felt your eyelids growing heavy. “This.”

“Hm?”

“Do this, just this; that’s what you can do for me.” You slurred as you felt the heavy hands of sleep dragging you further into the mattress beneath you.

You could feel Sirius chuckle - both in the form of the air he breathed into the crown of your head and the gentle rumble of his chest - as he pressed another lingering kiss into your hair. “Consider it done, my love.”

[harlowhockeystick]

LUNCH ⎯ C. Berzatto

carmen interviews a new girl for the recent waitressing job at the bear, and she's been the recent reason for his journal entries the past two weeks.

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: sexual themes (18+ MDNI), cuss words, carmen being super whipped but also kind of a perv, reader is kind of a ditz but so am i, reader has tats because i do too, reader also doesnt have much dialogue bc it's mostly from his pov.

word count: 1k

a/n: not really based off any specific episode or season in the series. i just love carmy so much <3

"Chef i need you to take over for at least an hour, i got an interview in 10." Carmen instructed Sydney, walking into the office as the kitchen staff began to prepare for open. The staff- mainly Sydney, Richie, and Carmen desperately needed a waiter in house. With how busy the restaurant was beginning to get they needed more than Nat out there.

"Are you gonna hire her?" Sydney asked; Carmen had briefed her about the applicant a day prior. He sat down, refreshing himself on the resume before meeting with her.

"Well she's the only applicant so far, so I don't really think I have a choice chef," before he could finish his thought he heard the chime of the entrance door. Glancing down at the time it read 10:51.

Early, off to a good start, he said to himself quietly. He gave one puff of cologne on his neck to try and musk the smell of kitchen before going out into the front of house to start the interview. Carmen forgot how to breathe for just a few seconds when he saw her- easily the most beautiful person he's seen walk in his restaurant.

"Um- Hi I'm Carmen Berzatto, the owner, you must be Y/N?" He introduces through a deep breath and a shaky hand that he extends. She takes it with a smile, following his lead. The soft taps of her high top converse against the tile floor, the flow of her skirt twirling as she turns in front of him slightly. It's exhilarating.

"Can I get you something to drink before we start? Water, a soda, coffee?" He offers, standing tall next to the table side. She grins and shakes her head denying his offer, her sweet sounding voice making butterflies flutter around in his stomach. That hasn't happened in a while.

They make small talk for a little while, Carmen asking pre-thought out ice breakers before getting to the real questions. But if he's honest with himself he isn't even listening to her answers. He's too focused on the way her lips move and how she purses her lips when she thinks about an answer.

He's taken great notice of the tattoos she has on her arms, in similar places to his own, all black outlined like his too. one is written in french, he assumes, right above her wrist on her arm. One is two small birds on the inside of her forearm. He wants to pause the interview just to talk about what they all mean to her. Partially because he wants to hear her voice for the rest of his life. He wants to press record on his phone and listen to her talk about whatever she wants to, her voice is that angelic.

"Can I ask you what the tattoo on your hand means?" she asked and he thought he was going to faint because she grabbed ahold of his hand gently to get a better look at it. She giggled when she got a better look at the artwork.

"It's to remind me to be careful when I chop vegetables, essentially," Carmen explained with a chuckle. "What does the one on your wrist mean?"

"Terre à terre, down to earth. I dont want to stray too far from who I was raised to be, so that's a reminder. I also have a couple more in french- my grandmother was french so I have a lot of french things in my life." She pulls up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal another tattoo, "étoile filante, shooting star. The first time I saw a shooting star was on my sixteenth birthday, my worst birthday actually."

He reminded himself to close his mouth because he knew he was about to start drooling, hearing the way her silky voice sounded even better in a foreign language.

He breezed through the interview, Natalie insisting that even though there are no other applicants and she'll probably get the job, do it the right way. "I'll give you a call by the end of the week, Y/N. It was a pleasure having you today." He shows her out of the restaurant, walking her to her car for safety, of course."

When Carmen got back inside, before he got to joining the team in prepping for the lunch crowd he pulled out his journal that he started to carry with him. It was full of various things: different dinner ideas to try out on the menu for a special, addresses, phone numbers, and other journal entries. he's made a habit of journal three times a week and he has a feeling he's going to be doing it a lot more with Y/N joining the team.

-

I could eat that girl for lunch. She smelled sweet like fuckin brownies or something, rich and delicious. Her tattoos, her gold necklaces, her smile, her skirt. I feel like a perv but god i know her skin would be so soft, and she'd have the best blind reactions to recipes, and i bet she'd taste good too. I'm closing the applications, this Y/N chick is gonna be the death of me.

-

"Hi Y/N, this is Carmen from The Bear, how're you?" he couldn't even wait a full 24 hours before he hired her. Embarrassing. "I just wanted to call and let you know that we're offering you the job if you are still interested." He bit the cap of his pen with a grin hearing her cheer and laugh on the other side of the phone. "Yea- yeah that's great, listen could you start Monday? I'll get you trained n'all that."

Carmen ends the phone call and moves some papers around on his desk, printing the papers for Y/N and putting them in her folder. He couldn’t stop grinning like a kid from hearing her excited voice over the phone.

Instantly he’s thinking of a million things to write in his journal about her. But he doesn’t have time, he needs to prep the special for tonights dinner service before anything else. Carmen will be thinking of her, however. Thinking of how soft her hands must be, or how sweet her chapstick tastes. He'll think of how it'll be nice to have her around, not just the help but to have someone with a softer tone around the place, too.

He thinks about Y/N while making glaze, mixing everything together to get that perfect spicy honey taste, he's imagining how her face lights up when she laughs. He doesn't even really know her yet but he's already making up what a first date would be like. He'd take her out for coffee, go see a movie, then go for a walk. But not too late, though. Even if she might be a night owl it's still inappropriate to keep a girl out past ten, at least that's what he read in some magazine a long time ago.

"Chef you ready to prep the team for tonight?" Sydney asked, interrupting his thoughts. He stumbled, dropping the spoon into the bowl and biting his tongue.

"Fuck- yeah, yeah I am."

-

"'M gonna go over the menu with you, if m'goin too fast then stop me." He pulls up a chair and tucks his hair behind his ears. Setting the laminated piece of paper in front of her, explaining each dish to her in firm detail. Carmen watches as her french tip acrylic nails trace along the menu, guiding along the words that he says from memory.

She's impressed, shocked even that he came up with this himself. She jokes that she can't cook and it gains a laugh from him.

"I'll teach you a few things, if ya want." He didn't mean for it to come out sounding like he was hitting on her...but secretly he was. Since when was he that slick with words?

-

I can't stop thinking about her. She's on my mind all the fuckin' time. She smelled really good, must have been her shampoo. I would love to just sit with her there, not sexually. Just be. I bet she's really calm and chill. I'd love to get ready with her in the mornings, again not sexually. To spend time, to laugh, to talk. I could eat that girl for lunch.

-

When Carmen walks into the front he catches Y/N taking pictures in the mirror by the entrance. He chuckles, watching her pose and smile. She turns around and gasps, cheeks getting darker when she realizes she's gotten caught.

"Sorry, the mirror is just so aesthetic."

"That? Um, okay? Guess we have different opinions of what aesthetic is." Carmen guides her to the back counter, teaching her how to count inventory of everything.

He feels out of place- no, he feels gross when he watches her bend down. He sees a peek of white lace stick out from the band of her jeans and he knows he shouldn't stare, but he can't help his mind from wandering. He wanders about what other types of underwear she might have, if she has any special ones, what they'd feel like wrapped-

"Carmen!" Sydney snaps him out of his daydream. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have a phone call from the AC guy." He's pulled away, for the better, but he knows he's going to write about this as soon as he gets the chance.

-

I'm interested in more than just being her boss. I could eat her alive, i'd let her take a seat on me wherever she wants for however long she wants. She'd taste like....like sweet watermelons on a sunny summer day. Yeah, something like that. She can't be real can she? I don't know how long I can keep acting professional. I just know she'd be the one for me.

・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。

feedback | masterlist

[cattlemons]

A Call Home That Will Not Be Answered

| Kaeya's past creeps up on him and he's usually ready to drink and forget but this particular one broke the camel's proverbial back.

TW: Really bad dreams, panic attack episode, mentions of alcohol, 2,3k words because I'm feeling angsty today

“I’m sorry, but sparing you will do me more harm than good,” Kaeya murmured as your body fell to the ground. The thud of your motionless body seemed to mock him, but he needed this to happen.

For his plan.

For their plan.

But did it really need to be this way?

Kaeya awoke with a gasp.

Wiping away his tearful eyes, he trained his gaze on the cracked ceiling above him before screwing them shut. He tried to steady his breath and count the numbers as you had taught him to do when he felt overwhelmed, but he couldn’t get past 3. Kaeya let out a curse. This wasn’t working.

He knew it was a dream. It had to be.

Knowing this, why did it feel so real? Why was this one so different from the other dreams he had had? Why was he so scared to open his eyes and see you not there?

He needed comfort.

He needed confirmation.

He needed you.

So, braving himself and clenching his fists, Kaeya turned onto his side. His eyes remained tightly shut; whether from fear or strength, he couldn’t tell. His hands snaked through the crumpled sheets on his side of the bed, slowly reaching over to your side. He hoped to feel something—the softness of your arm or perhaps the warmth of your chest. Anything.

Yet he was met with nothing.

Cold sheets greeted him as he opened his eyes wide. All he saw were the unwrinkled cotton fabric on your side of the bed—the half he swore you had occupied not too many hours ago. The half he himself often occupied with you when the nightmares got too real.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was no dream. Not this time, at least.

Kaeya stood and rushed over to the empty side of the bed. He did not know why he needed to check again even though it was already so clearly decided that no one was there; he just couldn’t believe it.

Did he kill you? Did he take your life as he had dreamt of a hundred times over? Had he shot you, stabbed you, or torn your heart out as his mind had fooled him into believing over and over again?

Was he never forgiven in the first place?

Where are you?

The sight was all it took to get him down on his knees, wailing. His throat tightened as he cried out loud for you to come back. Your name left his lips in a way that was so broken, so disheartened—like a call home that he knew would not be answered.

While the events in the room transpired, you were in the kitchen, sighing at your restless state. You couldn’t sleep at the moment. Your biological clock had shifted after repeatedly waking up at this time of the night to pick up your drunken lover from Angel’s Share for the past week.

You were aware of Kaeya’s habits when stressed. It’s not pretty, but he’s only human. You understood the occasions when work got too much and he needed to unwind with a glass or two before he was ready to share the burden with you. Lately, however, he’s been drinking his weight in wine, and you can’t get him to tell you why. You’ve even tried asking the red-headed tavern keeper, but, to no avail, he was also in the dark. You wished there was something you could do to fix it all for him.

It was getting better, though.

Or at least, you thought so.

Loud, strangled yells broke you out of your cluttered thoughts. Your feet moved before you could even register what was happening. Pushing the bedroom door open, you were met with a sight that broke a piece of your heart—perhaps to give to the man who had none left to break.

Kaeya was crumpled on the floor, weeping over you. His head was buried in his knees as he rocked himself back and forth while your name tumbled out of his mouth in strangled notes like a fervent prayer. He reached for a sudden painful yell, the anguish seeping and pouring out of the single syllable in droves. Then he quieted down, releasing tired, teary murmurs that escaped in tandem with the heaving of his sobbing chest.

Come back, please.

You inched closer to him, hesitant, in case you startled the already scared man. Gradually, you reached your hands out to hold him. At the slightest feeling of your touch, Kaeya’s breath hitched, but you wouldn’t let go. Kaeya whimpered as tired tears racked through him once more. Panic and pain clawed at him from the inside, trying to climb out of his heart through his raw throat.

“No… please… don’t make it feel like you’re here when you’re… not,” Kaeya’s splintered voice whispered. He was frightened.

Still, you urged him to open his eyes, but he shook his head harshly. Dark inky hair fell over his sealed eyes as he curled into himself even more, like a child with no one to comfort him, shying away from your warmth.

“You’re not real! I can’t handle it if… if… I open my eyes and see no one… please just… just go away…”

Your heart broke as you looked at the defeated man in front of you. You’d seen tears, yes, but you’d never seen this.

You murmured words, laden with love and affection, into his ear. You hoped it was enough to bring him out of his head. You knew how scary a place it was for him sometimes. All you did wasn’t enough, however, as he cried out even more at the fear of this all being a trick his cruel mind was playing on him.

You took a deep breath before you started humming. It wasn’t the most beautiful of songs, you admitted. Your throat carried a crackly tune at best, but you noticed that Kaeya’s breathing had calmed down a bit.

Less erratic, less scared.

Your humming continued until Kaeya’s tears slowed. You tried again to coax him into opening his eyes. You let endless streams of promises come out—promises that you were here, promises that you wouldn’t disappear, and promises that you’d always stay.

Taking a shuddering breath, Kaeya let himself trust the person he loved with all he had left. His glassy, swollen eyes opened slowly to meet your equally teary eyes.

When gold and blue met with your irises, Kaeya collapsed into your secure hold. He didn’t dare loosen his grip, much less let go; and you wouldn’t have it any other way either. Kaeya buried his head into the side of your neck, holding onto you like a lifeline, a ray of light in his abyss. He felt that if he were to let go, you’d disappear for good.

The two of you stayed in this position for a bit over an hour, perhaps even longer. Silence kept its grip on the room as the both of you focused on feeling each other. Kaeya did not have the heart or courage to tell you of the darkness he harbors in his subconscious; maybe later he might find the courage, but not now—not when he had just started breathing again. You didn’t ask him about it either, knowing that he would come to you when he was ready. It didn’t matter right now, anyway. All that mattered was that...

“You’re here.”

“I'll always be.”

a.n. First genshin fic, yum!

Hope you enjoyed the read!

[leupagus]

On Voting in America

So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:

"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."

I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.

Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.

And I've decided I don't give a shit.

Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.

In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.

Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.

Brush, wipe, vote.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[3:16 pm]

You were out of breath, turning the corner and closing the door to your bedroom. Jeno was hot on your heels, chasing after you. You laughed, tiredly pushing all your body weight against the door to keep it from opening. Jeno laughed, out of breath, "You can't keep me out! Just say you're sorry and all this will stop."

You giggled, your feet sliding along the wood floors of your home, while he pushed with all his strength. You readjusted your stance, calling back "I didn't do anything wrong!"

This was the last thing you though would happen today. When you sat down on the couch, your favorite drink of choice, with your favorite blanket wrapped around you to catch up on your favorite reality show, you never imagined that it would be a problem. It was a show you'd been watching for years, you had your favorite personalities, least favorite personalities, watched the storylines change, and relationships evolve.

Jeno used to make fun of you for watching the show. It was "so fake," "so trashy," and had even been asked "how you even watch this." He had never even tried to sit down and watch with you. Well, until a month ago. He sat down and watched the first two episodes with you unexpectedly. He had been on his way out but stopped behind the couch, distracted by the argument going on on the tv. Five minutes later he was seated beside you, asking what the reason for the fight was and who everyone was.

You never thought he would actually get invested, so when you sat down to catch up on three weeks of missed episodes, you didn't think anything of it.

Jeno had come in from his outings and gasped like you just told him you scratched his beloved car. "I can't believe you're watching without me! How much have you watched?!"

"Well, I missed 3 episodes and the second is finishing up-"

"Two episodes!?"

That's when he lunged over the couch and began tickling you, while you laughed and tried to explain that you didn't think he would be interested. That he had spend years criticizing you for watching the show. Even told you that this show was rotting your brain. You had started running when you started the third episode and Jeno started tickling you even more.

Jeno was easing the door open now, you could hear his laughs while you tried with all your might to keep the door closed. You knew he could have easily opened the door by now but you appreciated him playing along. "You used to bash me for watching the show!" You laughed, your strength slowly leaving you.

Jeno now had an arm in, reaching to your side to poke and prod to weaken you, "And then I learned how much of an asshole Tom is! We needed to discuss!"

You gave up, laughing helplessly as you slid to the floor. Your shoulders were shaking with uncontrollable giggles, you could hear the theme song playing from the living room.

Jeno slowly slid the door open, face damp with sweat and a soft smile on his face, "I'm sorry I told you this show was melting your brain and killing your brain cells. Can you please restart the episodes so I can watch too?"

You leaned in, pecking his lips quickly as you laughter subsided, "Was it so hard to admit you liked the show?"

He nodded, "Nearly killed me baby. Let's go- and no spoilers!"

[copperbadge]

I was diagnosed with depression when I was seventeen, the "this will probably keep happening your whole life" kind of depression, but aside from some really rough moments in my mid-twenties I coped pretty well; by the time I was living in Chicago I could see a depressive episode coming and I had techniques to ensure I got through -- kept going to work, kept making and eating food, kept myself and my home clean.

By the time I went in for my ADHD assessment I hadn't had an episode in a couple of years, and when I had they weren't particularly severe. So when I got the ADHD diagnosis and started studying what that meant, it seemed evident to me that what I'd been experiencing wasn't depression but rather exhaustion from unrecognized burnout. Which was a good thing -- it meant that with medication it probably wouldn't happen much or if it did it would be very mild.

But it turns out that clinical depression and ADHD can coexist! All discovery is useful, but this one was a real pain in the ass.

For the last couple of weeks I haven't had a ton of energy for doing anything, in a way that I recognize from previous episodes. The coping mechanisms did kick in; I pulled way back on chores and hobbies, focused on keeping caught-up with my job, made sure I was doing the minimum level of cleaning and didn't worry too much that I wasn't doing more. Looked after the cats, made time and saved energy for socializing. Didn't have much energy for longform writing but I had enough focus to work on short stories, so I messed around with those.

I'm okay in the specific way where I'm not a harm to myself or others and perfectly competent to run my own life, I'm just not real happy about any of it.

The longer I go managing my mental health and the ADHD, the more important the "show jumper" metaphor I came up with has become for me. Because yeah, firing on all cylinders and with Adderall I can basically do any task I aim myself at -- but with depression, even with the medication, it pulls backwards into "Okay, well, I guess put the horse over the jumps it'll take, not the ones you want it to take."

But I've been maintaining decently and this morning it turned out I wanted to cook a bunch of food, so even though what I really need to be doing is mopping the floor and vacuuming the rugs, I'll take "cooking enough pizza sauce to drown a small animal while boiling some pasta" and "making a nice loaf of beer bread". And hopefully the burst of energy means it's resolving itself, and the floors will get done sometime this week when I don't have to be baking bread or making pasta salad.

I'm very carefully saving my second daily Adderall dose until I'm ready to do the massive stack of dishes the cooking led to. Gonna take this horse over the goddamn dishes jump whether it likes it or not.

[dreadfuldevotee]

I'd like to discuss the elephant in the room. Why did we get zero Loumand sex scenes? We got hints and implications, but season 1 was pretty explicit. Do we think that that's a creative choice or something else is happening?

I'm glad I ended up ruminating on this for about a week because episode 7 & 8 really solidified my opinion on it.

I do wanna start by saying that it's very clear to me that there was supposed to be more explicit scenes between them. There has been some thoughts tossed around that censorship happened with the 9 pm timeslot (as opposed to the 10 pm timeslot of S1). I believed this hearing Assad and Jacob talk about the BDSM dynamic between Louis and Armand, but what really sold me on this was Production Designer Mara LePere-Schloop talking about the bedroom set and more specifically about their beautifully carved custom headboard. (If you're a production nerd like me or just want to know more about the design philosophy of IWTV I recommend giving the entire thing a listen!).

I think there are several reasons I think as to why they decided to leave any more explicit scenes on the cutting room floor but above them all is: you cannot separate Armand's sexuality from his abuse. I am really against pulling a "well if you read the books" card but reading just the first couple chapters of "The Vampire Armand" makes me understand so much about not only Armand as a character, but the care being taken to his adaptation. It's clear to me that alongside Rolin & Co.'s commitment to not watering him down to a one-dimensional villain they are also trying to not fall into Anne Rice's tendency to romanticize his trauma.

Sex and sexuality is not the same pillar of Louis and Armand's relationship it was in Louis and Lestat's and so I don't believe their story suffers from the lack of on-screen sex. But I also firmly believe that maybe we don't need to be slutting out the character who we literally just watched talk about how he doesn't remember his life before being sex trafficked. And even when he was "freed" he was still being repeatedly assaulted at the hands of, and under the eye Marius de Romanus. Like it is extremely important to remember that Armand's craving for dominion in his relationships is a manifestation of trauma that deserves the same level of care and depth given to every other trauma portrayed in this show.

I think people have gotten too comfortable calling IWTV a romance when it has always been Gothic Horror. Romance and sex are pivotal to the story but I have found the demands for sex scenes this season a bit absurd and also? unfounded? Loustat share more kisses on screen but there are two sex scenes and both are very plot relevant. I truly figured we were all in agreement that the eroticism of this show is found in the various displays of power, and the dynamics it creates and not the actual clapping of ass-cheeks...which also wasn't happening in S1 either. S2 does not suffer because of the lack of sex-scenes, but the likelihood if it suffering trying to make one work is